


Chop and Change

by PhoenixTalon



Category: Klaroline - Fandom, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1234441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTalon/pseuds/PhoenixTalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Caroline's college graduation, she traveled the world, trying to find a a place to settle her restless heart. That is, until Rebekah finds her, with three simple words: "Nik's in trouble."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Caroline was never sure if it was her vampire blood stirring, urging her to move onto new hunting grounds, a purely instinctual craving. Or perhaps her heart had always been restless, that despite her desire for comfort and security, she longed for the life of a gypsy. Whatever the reason, she could never quite escape that haunting voice, offering to show her genuine beauty.

So she left, to find it for herself. 

Caroline went to Paris first. She’d been entranced by Paris since she was a child, a natural affect of growing up with Charade, Funny Face, and How to Steal a Million Dollars. Paris had nothing but beauty and history to court her with, from watching the sun rise near Notre Dame to drinking champagne at the top of the Eiffel Tower. 

The champagne, of course, turned out to be a fatal mistake. It made her realize she was enjoying the most romantic city in the world alone.

So she left Paris, headed straight for London. That turned out to be another secondary mistake. Not to say the city wasn’t beautiful and she didn’t enjoy herself—but every time someone spoke to her, whether in cool civility, friendliness, or hostility, it brought back painful memories. The accent was too much. She left again. 

Greece, Switzerland, Poland, Egypt—she never stayed longer than a week. Traveling was a great deal easier as a vampire—there was never the fear of journeying alone as a single woman, not with vampiric instincts and compulsion as her tools of the trade. She was careful, staying unnoticed in the shadows, stealing blood bags from hospitals and doctors’ offices. 

It was in Italy she met Rebekah. 

Caroline was so intent on being anonymous, on enjoying the world’s treasures, that she never would have noticed Rebekah at the winery until the waiter brought her a glass of their finest merlot, laced with the intoxicating taste of an earthy-blooded Italian. The waiter’s glassy expression spoke volumes and at first, Caroline was alarmed. Until she noticed the second blonde in the room tilt her floppy sunhat at her.

Great.

She stood from her stool and crossed the room towards Rebekah, folding her arms in irritation. Halfway across the world and she still couldn’t escape this family. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Caroline wasted no time in pleasantries.

Rebekah flicked her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. “You know, you’re not an easy girl to find,” She noted demurely. “I can’t quite decide if you’re running away from something or toward something—but I suppose that’s neither here nor there. Have a seat.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Caroline snapped. “What do you want, Rebekah? And don’t say you were feeling nostalgic and wanted to catch up.” 

Rebekah’s eyes glittered. “Careful, darling. I’m in a good mood that only the Tuscan sun can provide, and if you irritate me out of my vacation, I’ll be quite put out. Have a seat.” 

It was not a compelled command, but her words had that warning in them. Narrowing her eyes, Caroline tersely sat, drumming her fingers on the table. 

“Oh, darling, you forgot your drink,” Rebekah smartly snapped her fingers and the compelled waiter reappeared, pouring Caroline another glass. “Wonderful vintage. Thirty years old, perfectly aged.” She giggled girlishly and Caroline wrinkled.

“Can we stop the small talk?” Caroline demanded. “What exactly do you want, Rebekah?” 

Rebekah sighed, pursing her lips. “Dear, dear. Straight to business, then. I need your help.” 

“No,” Caroline said flatly. “Whatever it is, no. I’ve had enough Originals to last me until eternity. As of my college graduation, I am officially in retirement.” 

“Don’t be a bore, Caroline,” Rebekah rolled her eyes. “Do you think I relish asking for your help? I’m afraid I’m out of options at this point and you’re the only one who’d understand.” 

“Are you deaf?” Caroline snapped. “What part of no did you not understand?”

“Nik’s in trouble,” Rebekah said pointblank. 

There was a slight pause as Caroline processed her words. The warm summer wind blew through the trees, and she caught a whiff of fresh oranges, hanging from the garden next door. 

“Why should I care?” Caroline asked finally, crossing her legs.

“Judging by that long awkward silence, you care quite a bit,” Rebekah took a sip of her wine. “He’s in New Orleans. Got in a spot of bad trouble with someone he shouldn’t have bothered with. And now—”

“What has any of this got to do with me?” Caroline snapped. “You’re his sister. Why don’t you and the rest of your psycho siblings rescue him?” 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Klaus has not exactly endeared himself to his family,” Rebekah said coolly. “Elijah is doing all he can. So that leaves me—and you.” 

“Why on earth would you even think I cared?” Caroline demanded. “The last time I saw him, he promised he would walk away and never come back. I told him that I was building a life for myself, and it didn’t include him. And up until your unpleasant reappearance, I haven’t seen any of the Originals—better luck for me!”

Rebekah’s lips tightened in irritation as she set down her glass. She took a deep breath. 

“You little fool,” She said softly. “Do you think I relish asking you for help? Do you think it causes me joy? And do you think I would seek you out if it were a mere whim?! Klaus’ life is in danger. I won’t deny my relationship with my brother is complex, but blood trumps all, as Elijah says. I will not let him perish at the hands of some power-hungry—” She stopped herself. 

Caroline’s brow furrowed. “His life…how could his life be in danger? He’s an Original. Isn’t there only one thing that can kill an Original for good?” 

“Yes,” Rebekah said impatiently. “And she has it.”

“Who’s she?”

A shadow passed over Rebekah’s face. “An enemy. An old enemy. A witch by the name of Madame Lalaurie.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar to Caroline, but she couldn’t quite place it. “So what did Klaus do to piss off this witch? Or vice versa?”

“Mm,” Rebekah looked slightly mollified now that she’d captured Caroline’s attention. “At first, we thought it might be the usual power struggle he’s had to fend off. He’s a bit of a tyrant in New Orleans, it shouldn't be surprising that an upstart might appear every once in a while—but this one…she had some very singular tastes. She was like our mother, channeling witches energies for her own machinations. But unlike our mother, Madame Lalaurie didn’t quite have the same respect and appreciation for those she was channeling.”

Caroline looked a little lost and Rebekah rolled her eyes.

“Her slaves,” Rebekah said in a deadpan voice. “She channeled the energies of the slaves she had, during that romantic antebellum south your precious Mystic Falls is so intent on reliving.”

Caroline’s stomach turned. “But wait a minute, you said that this was a recent uprising. And you’re talking about a witch who should be dead for—”

“We thought she was dead,” Rebekah said impatiently. “But it turns out we were misinformed. She was apparently biding her time. And now, she’s got her sights set on ruling New Orleans again.”

“Ruling,” Caroline scoffed. “It’s not a kingdom. Klaus is not the dictator there.”

“You of all people should know that the laws of the supernatural work differently,” Rebekah interrupted again. “Suffice it to say, there has been a power struggle. And Klaus went missing.” 

Caroline’s stomach knotted nervously. “That’s not really—abnormal, is it? He disappears without a moment’s notice all the time. Maybe he decided to take care of this witch on his own.”

“Things have changed,” Rebekah cleared her throat. “We’re trying to rely on each other more. Elijah and I have tried to call him a hundred times with no answer. The Quarter has gone silent about his disappearance, too afraid of offending Madame Lalaurie. If he had decided to take care of her on our own, we’d at least hear a whisper…she’s got him. I know she’s got him. And she’ll kill him—when she’s done with him that is.”

“When she’s done with him?” Caroline swallowed. 

“The Original Vamipre/Werewolf hybrid has quite a bit of energy she’d love to channel for her own purposes,” Rebekah shuddered. “And her methods of extraction are gruesome.” 

It shouldn’t have mattered. Klaus’ quest for power and control over the city of New Orleans and its result in pissing off some racist slave owner witch shouldn’t bother Caroline. She had her own life to lead, didn’t she? A life away from the drama of Mystic Falls, where she could explore and discover on her own. 

But Caroline had seen the humanity in Klaus. She was one of the few who had. She’d seen his tears, she’d seen his brokenness, and despite all of the evil, she’d seen his love for her. And if humanity was so important to her, shouldn’t her compassion for him prevail?

“All right,” Caroline took a deep breath. “What do you want me to do?”

****

For obvious reasons, Caroline had avoided New Orleans in her travels. She’d always had terrible luck and it would just figure that the one time she visited the crescent city, she’d run into Klaus. 

And yet, here she was, on her way to rescue him. 

Klaus had once called her, told her that this was his favorite city, and someday he’d love to show it to her. Upon her arrival, she couldn’t help but be captivated by its beauty. Sunshine, bright colors, interesting characters littered the streets. She could sense magic in her bones, vibrating through her chest—she wondered what it might be like for Bonnie to inhale this presence. 

“All right,” Caroline said in a measured voice. “Where’s Klaus? Where is this Madame Lalaurie?”

“Patience dear,” Rebekah brushed a strand of hair from her face. “First we check in with Elijah.” 

A cab ride later, Caroline found herself in front of a huge, ornate mansion. It looked like something straight out of Gone with the Wind, and it took a great deal of effort not to be awed. Roses entwined the balcony, and Caroline’s heightened senses could smell jasmine and lilacs as well. 

The front doors opened and Elijah stepped forward onto the porch. “Caroline. Welcome to New Orleans and to our home. I’d like to express my gratitude that you agreed to help us.”

“Oh, save it, Elijah,” Rebekah rolled her eyes pushing past him. “It was like pulling teeth to get her here.”

“Nevertheless, we are grateful,” Elijah said steadily. “Not many would have your grace, Caroline, not after all that’s happened.” 

There was nothing really to be said to that. So Caroline shrugged a little. “This is just—this is just a one time thing. We save Klaus, I get out of town.”

“Of course,” Elijah nodded. “Please follow me.” He led her inside the mansion, into the study where he offered her a blood bag. She took it, after all a nine hour flight with no blood made her very hungry, never mind Rebekah’s suggestion they feed on the crew. 

“Okay,” Caroline swallowed the blood and exhaled, feeling revived. “So—neither one of you know where Klaus is. That’s not exactly a good place to start.”

“No, it’s not,” Elijah acknowledged. “However, we’ve a witch who can find him. And Madame Lalaurie.”

“A witch,” Caroline said slowly. “Wait a second. What witch would be willing to find Klaus? Isn’t he the abomination of nature? Why would they even want to?”

“Because no matter how much we hate Klaus,” A voice intoned. “We hate Madame Lalaurie more.” 

Caroline turned to see a woman who looked around her age—give or take—step into the parlor. She would have been pretty had it not been for the sour look on her face. Beautiful tattoos with the most curious designs decorated her bare arms and her dark brown eyes were the color of coffee. Her skin was tanned and there wasn’t even a particle of fear in her gaze as she looked at the tree vampires. 

“Who are you?” Caroline asked, crossing her arms. 

“This is Kylie Celastin,” Elijah introduced. “She will be assisting us.” 

“Careful, vampire,” Kylie glared at them both. “I’m no ally to you or your family. We just happen to be in a similar position of wanting Delphine Lalaurie dead.”

“Kylie’s family had a bit of a row with Madame Lalaurie back in the day,” Rebekah examined her fingernails. 

The witch rolled her eyes. “Yeah, something like that.” From the fire in Kylie's eyes, it was no small strife. For perhaps the hundredth time, Caroline wondered what she'd gotten herself into.


	2. Chapter 2

There had been few moments in Klaus Mikaelson’s life where he genuinely feared for his life. When he first unleashed his hybrid self, and Elijah nearly staked him. When Silas had gotten inside his mind and forced him to believe that he was dying. 

And now, where he remained chained in a filthy basement, his daylight ring removed and a white oak stake dangling in front of him, tied to a thread.

Madame Lalaurie had a sick sense of humor. 

He supposed he ought to give her a little credit. Not every witch could trap an Original. Not every witch had connections all throughout the south, somehow earning her access to the last remaining white oak trees, where she was able to carve herself a weapon. Not every witch had the immense capabilities to continually suck on his energies, drinking his vampire and werewolf strength away, greedily. Hungrily. 

“When I get out of here,” Klaus said through gritted teeth. “I will kill her. Slowly.” 

“So very confident,” A genteel voice purred. “And yet—once again—I have the upper hand.” 

Klaus let loose a stream of expletives that would have made a sailor blush, but the voice only chuckled. 

“Not much for manners, are you,” She stepped towards him and his gaze focused on her. There was no light to see her, but that didn’t matter to a Hybrid. 

She looked like a woman gone to seed, a figure with the barest remnants of beauty, someone who had been trying to look a certain age for far too long. She wore a sickly sweet perfume that burned Klaus’ nose—vervain and roses, perhaps? She wore clothes of classic elegance, clothes that let her pretend she was demure and full of grace.“

"Madame Lalaurie,” Klaus chuckled darkly. “I was just considering how I ought to congratulate you—right before I rip your heart from your chest.”

Madame Lalaurie shrugged. “You don’t seem to be in a state to do much, if you ask me,” She delicately untied the white oak stake and toyed with it, combing it down the side of her face. 

“You know, you and I—we’re not so different,” She remarked thoughtfully. 

Klaus laughed hoarsely. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” She lightly traced the stake across Klaus’ bare chest, stopping short of his heart. 

“What is it you desire?” Madame Lalaurie questioned, leaning into him, barely pushing the stake into his chest. “Power? Loyalty? That’s why you created your hybrids, isn’t it? An army of creatures, just like you, completely disposable to your needs while you use their energies to enact your goals.”

She leaned further and he could smell her rancid breath. “Now tell me, Klaus, how is that so different from enslaving my witches to do my bidding, hm?”

He glared at her, yanking forward on the chains, werewolf instincts tearing through, demanding to tear out her jugular. But Madame Lalaurie simply chuckled, pulling open a curtain. Sunlight streamed through the dungeon, burning his skin and he howled, jerking away. He had to balance on one foot, his back awkwardly arched to remain away from the sunlight, a position he could not hold for long.

“I think I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” Madame Lalaurie murmured. “Let you burn again and again. That’s what’s useful about an Original. Very few ways to die, but so much more options for pain.”

She strolled out of the dungeon, ignoring Klaus’ screams.

****

“So…you’re a witch,” Caroline said slowly. “But isn’t Madame Lalaurie a witch? Aren’t you guys all Ya-Ya Sisterhood or something?”

“Madame Lalaurie is a leech,” Kylie spat. “A leech who has made my family—and several of my friends’—lives a living hell. We have a long, ugly history, a history that’s going to end in her death. Don’t you dare make the mistake that my loyalties lie with that bitch.”

Elijah cleared his throat. “Kylie has kindly agreed to help us locate our brother, Caroline, as well as provide her assistance in taking down Madame Lalaurie.”

“Trust me, we’re not exactly thrilled with siding with a witch in order to free Klaus, but sometimes, an occasion calls for us to get our hands dirty,” Rebekah remarked delicately, examining her fingernails. Kylie threw them both an ugly look and then focused on Caroline. 

“Are you an Original too?” She wanted to know, folding her arms. 

Caroline wrinkled. “No way.”

Kylie’s brow furrowed. “What exactly is her connection to all this, then? Why were you so dead set on getting her help before beginning?’ She turned her question to Elijah and Rebekah. 

Elijah coughed awkwardly. “Caroline…has had a special connection to our family for a long time.” 

“I have not!” Caroline protested.

“Fine. A special connection to Klaus, then.”

“I do not!” 

“I would think she’d have better taste,” Kylie said dryly. “Whatever. We need to get started if we want to locate Madame Lalaurie.” 

“Of course,” Elijah acknowledged. “Just tell us what you need.” 

“Some of your blood,” Kylie replied pointblank. She drew a needle from her purse and stabbed Elijah with it quickly. He flinched but said nothing about her ministrations. Kylie then walked towards the dining room table, drawing a map from the drawer. 

Kylie closed her eyes, murmuring something in an unfamiliar language. Caroline watched her drip a drop of blood onto the map—she’d this kind of spell before, a long time ago. 

However, the spell didn’t seem to be working. The drop of blood remained motionless.

“Damn it,” Kylie muttered.

“What’s the problem?” Rebekah wanted to know.

Kylie sighed impatiently. “Madame Lalaurie must know you guys are here and looking for him. She’s somehow countering the family blood spell; I can’t use your guys’ blood to track Klaus down.”

“So there’s nothing else you can do?” Rebekah snarled. “You promised us a locator spell!”

“And you’ll get one!” Kylie snarled back. “I just need to think for a minute.” She took a deep breath, tapping the map impatiently. Her brow furrowed and she tilted her head up, looking directly at Caroline.

“How close were you to Klaus?” She asked bluntly. 

Caroline blinked. “What do you mean?”

“How close were you to Klaus?” Kyle repeated, slowly, as if Caroline were a child.

Caroline was in no mood to discuss the complexities of her relationship with Klaus. “Why does that matter?”

“Have you slept with him?” Kyle wanted to know.

“What?” Caroline yelped, her face burning red.

“I don’t see how this is relevant,” Rebekah said impatiently. “People you sleep with are no indicator of a relationship, certainly not for Klaus.”

“Maybe not, but love is,” Kylie insisted. “Wolves mate for life, right? If Klaus loves her, and they’ve been together, his wolf side may have claimed her as his mate. And I can use that to track him down.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Caroline exploded. “I am not his mate!”

Elijah looked intrigued. “Klaus was very attached to Caroline. It’s very possible he loved her…”

“Okay, not to throw water on this plan, but I’ve had some experience dating werewolves,” Caroline crossed her arms. “I’ve never heard of this ‘wolves mate for life’ thing.” 

“Well, clearly you and that werewolf weren’t in love enough to make his mating instinct kick in,” Kylie informed her. Caroline’s hackles rose and she resisted her own vampiric instinct to rip Kylie’s head off. 

“Well, this is stupid!” Caroline announced snappishly. “And how do you two—even know about—” She couldn't finish her sentence, it brought back too many heated memories of her slammed against a tree, buttons flying, Klaus’ hot mouth…

Elijah looked slightly abashed and Rebekah smirked at her. Caroline glowered at them both.

“Madame Lalaurie better kill Klaus now, because he’s dead when I get my hands on him,” She growled.

“Oh, please, it’s not like it was a state secret,” Rebekah put in snidely. “Klaus and me go to Mystic Falls, Klaus tells me to save Matt while he ‘attends to business in the woods’, comes back with a spring in his step and in a particularly annoying cheerful mood. Not that hard to put two and two together.”

Caroline’s cheeks flamed and she refused to speak. Elijah cleared his throat.

“I think it’s at least worth a shot,” He said, a little awkwardly. “But only if you’re amenable to it, Caroline.” 

It was ridiculous. She was most certainly not Klaus’ mate, she had made it perfectly clear to him that she wasn’t ever going to see him again. But Elijah’s eyes were pleading with her and it wasn’t like they had any other leads to go on.

“Fine,” Caroline thrust her hand towards Kylie. “But I’m telling you, it’s not going to work—ouch!”

Kylie had swiftly stabbed her with a needle, apparently not interested in hearing any more of Caroline’s protests. She squeezed Caroline’s palm, letting the blood drip onto the map, her voice growing harsh as she whispered an incantation. 

And of course, this time, the traitorous drop of blood quivered and bounced across the map, landing directly on a spot due north of their location.

“Well, well, well,” Rebekah purred. “Mates indeed—so what does this mean, should I start calling you my sister-in-law or does a formal ceremony need to be in order?”

“Shut up,” Caroline snarled. 

“This cathedral’s abandoned,” Kylie noted. “But a good hiding place for Madame Lalaurie. New Orleans is infested with debilitated churches, falling apart on top of each other.”

“Indeed,” Elijah said approvingly. “We’ll wait for nightfall. Then we attack.”

“Hang on,” Kylie objected. “I know you Originals love the direct route, but don’t make the same mistake Klaus did in underestimating Madame Lalaurie. She’ll have a Plan B and a Plan C, so we need one too.” 

Rebekeh sighed impatiently. “Strategy was always Klaus’ specialty, not mine. Any ideas, Elijah?” 

It irritated Caroline that after all the time Rebekah took demanding her help, Rebekah was now completely ignoring her. 

“We split up,” Caroline undercut Elijah. “Make a scouting mission first. Figure out where she’s keeping Klaus, go from there.”

“Excellent,” Elijah nodded. “Myself and Rebekah will—”

“It should just be me,” Caroline said firmly. “Madame Lalaurie knows your family, right? She’ll be expecting you guys. And she knows Kylie too, I’m assuming—so it should just be me. I’ve got no connection to this, so even if I’m caught or get in trouble, she’ll be more confused than concerned. We want to keep the upper hand no matter what.”

“Well, apparently you have more of a connection to Klaus than you thought,” Rebekah remarked and Caroline threw her a filthy look.

“My point is,” She snapped. “Madame Lalaurie doesn’t know who I am. I’m your guys’ best bet.”

“I think she’s right,” Kylie gave Caroline a rare smile. “While she does that, I’ll get some more of the witches together. There’s only a straggle of us left, but they’ll help. Madame Lalaurie’s been leeching off us for too long.”

****

The church was a wreck. There was one remaining stained glass window, a depiction of John the Baptist, while all the remaining windows were either broken or boarded up. The steeple looked caved in and the walls of the church were covered in graffiti. 

Spoiled beauty, Caroline thought to herself as she surveyed it from a rooftop. She sighed a little, wondering how on earth she’d gotten mixed up in all this. Never mind. It didn’t matter. They’d save Klaus and she would be out of the city, to return to her European adventure. 

She decided not to think about what a reunion with Klaus would be like. One task at a time.

There was a small crowd of humans gathered in the alley outside the church. To the untrained eye, they looked like the homeless—but Caroline knew better. There was more makeup than dirt on their cheeks and their clothes were just a little too artfully ripped—Madame Lalaurie apparently had a penchant for theatrics. That was fine. Caroline was a drama major. She knew the stage. 

It wasn’t compulsion, but it was something like it. The witch version, perhaps. Madame Lalaurie was clever, setting out sentries that no one would notice, just grubby humans who had apparently been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Caroline made up her mind to set them free as soon as she figured out where Klaus was being kept. 

Caroline leapt from the building, landing neatly in the middle of the sidewalk. She pulled out a camera from her purse and made to act like she was interested in photographing the crumbling church. None of the passerby even noticed her—she probably looked too much like a tourist. 

She walked round the building and her breath hitched when she noted a graveyard in the back. What was it that Bonnie had once told her? Some witches were ‘familial witches’, and drew their energies and magic from their ancestors, rather than nature. The graveyard didn’t look like much—the graves weren’t even marked. But they were old, clearly from Madame Lalaurie’s time. But why here? 

Nevertheless, there had to be something significant towards this cemetery if Madame Lalaurie had chosen this church. Caroline pricked her ears, listening for any patrols or busybodies. It seemed Madame Lalaurie’s henchmen were on the north side of the church, facing some of the tourists. She’d have to be careful, but she could just easily sneak in through the side entrance. 

She found a door, which appeared to be a custodial entrance. Almost immediately, her nostrils were filled with dust and she coughed into her arm. Her eyes adjusted and she found herself in a little hallway, littered with bits of junk and rusted over buckets. 

The church was silent. Even her heightened senses could detect nothing, aside from the skittering of vermin and the rotting of the wood. Nevertheless, Caroline’s skin prickled uncomfortably. There was something off about this church. 

What was she looking for? She turned a corner and found herself facing double doors, presumably an entryway into the sanctuary. The church was tiny, even smaller than the local protestant church in Mystic Falls. 

“Okay,” Caroline murmured. “What’s so special about this church. Why would Madame Lalaurie stash Klaus here?” 

Her research on the woman indicated that the witch was a splashy, stylish sort of woman, someone who loved to put on a good show. No wonder she and Klaus were at odds with each other. So why wouldn’t she hide Klaus in her Royal Street mansion?

Too obvious. Madame Lalaurie was theatrical, not stupid. Anyone who had the barest gleaning of New Orleans history knew about the slave quarters, where she would torment and abuse her slaves in the most gruesome of ways. The Royal Street mansion would have been the first place the Originals looked. 

But what was the significance of this church?

“For someone who was so deadest on going it alone, you’re not exactly inspiring a lot of confidence just standing there.” 

Caroline whipped around to see Kylie leaning against the wall. “What are you doing here?”

“What you said made sense, but you forgot a crucial detail,” Kylie delicately picked a piece of lint off her black cardigan. “Madame Lalaurie doesn’t know who I am for one, and you’re not a witch. You’re likely to blunder into a nasty hex or curse if I don’t watch out for you.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Caroline retorted sarcastically. “I thought you said you and Lalaurie had a history.”

“I said my family and her had a history,” Kylie corrected. “She’s not too good with names of people she’s tormented. A striking difference from Klaus, I hear he never forgot the names of his slaves.” 

Caroline flinched at her tone, though she didn’t know why. Klaus did have slaves—hybrid slaves. Tyler was one of them. And Klaus brutally murdered all of them and swore revenge against Tyler for defying him. 

“Nothing to say to that?” Kylie smiled approvingly. “Good. I get tired of Elijah constantly trying to redeem him. Never forget, he’s the lesser of two evils.”

“Are you just going to stand there and trash Klaus?” Caroline asked finally, placing her hands on her hips. “Or are you going to help me actually find him? I’m sure this rant would be a lot more effective towards him, right now you’re just preaching to the choir.” 

“Hm, some mate you are,” Kylie remarked but Caroline ignored her. “Okay. Hang on a tick.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, cocking her head. Caroline watched her, the hairs on her arms prickling once again. It almost felt like there was a draft in the church, something blowing through their bodies—but if that were true, papers and debris would be scattering. 

Kylie’s eyes opened. “The rectory,” She said tersely. Caroline walked up to the altar and wrenched the door to the lectern open. Her eyes narrowed when she realized the dust had been disturbed—someone had been here recently. She squatted, pulling a rug up to reveal a trap door.

“Hold it,” Kylie said sharply. “Let me see.” There was a marking on the door, something Caroline didn’t recognize. 

“Mm,” Kylie’s brow furrowed. “That’s not good.” 

“What is it?” Caroline asked nervously.

“Particularly complex bit of magic,” Kylie replied, straightening, dusting off her jeans. “Very nasty. It’ll alert Madame Lalaurie that you’re here once you pass through, and it will also trigger an assortment of…things.” 

“Things?” Caroline swallowed.

“Yeah. Mostly mental attacks. Phantoms from your memories, images from your worst nightmares, that sort of thing,” Kylie narrowed her eyes. “Not something an Original should pass through. Or a witch.” 

“Is that an invitation just for me?” Caroline asked dryly.

Kylie shrugged. “This hex was tailored for an Original or a New Orleans witch, the two that Madame Lalaurie are expecting. You’re a young vampire, by my estimation. You won’t have as many nasty thoughts and negative energies as Elijah or Rebekah or me.” 

“Goody.”

“In any case, once you step through that trap door, Lalaurie will know you’re here. That means I need to go back. Get Elijah and Rebekah, marshal our forces. I’ll do a basic linking spell between you and me so once you find Klaus, I’ll find you.” Kylie stated matter-of-factly. The lack of emotion in her tone bothered Caroline—no one should be this blasé about pissing off a racist slave-owner witch.

“Fine,” Caroline flinched when Kyle sliced her hand, murmuring some words over her blood. “Any other tips?”

A shadow fell over Kylie’s eyes. “Be careful. Something Madame Lalaurie invoked…it won’t be pleasant. Just…keep your eyes open. Don’t play his games.”

“His?”

“I’ll be back with Rebekah and Elijah,” Kylie told her, shuffling away from the lectern. “See you in a few.” 

Caroline took a deep breath, refusing to watch Kylie leave her alone in the dusty church. She bent down, jerked the trapdoor open, and clambered inside.


	3. Chapter 3

“Klaus,” Caroline swore. “You owe me a new pair of boots.” 

The boots in question were now coated with a heavy coat of dirt, dust, cobwebs, and mud—it appeared whatever cellar she was traipsing through had flooded once or twice. It was black as pitch, making Caroline thankful for her heightened senses. 

She took a deep breath, trying to focus her hearing. The pathway remained silent and she quickened her pace, worried that Madame Lalaurie was already on her way. 

“Ugh,” Caroline muttered, rubbing her arms. It had been easy to be heroic and confident out in the daylight, surrounded by New Orleans tourists. Alone in a spooky church basement, right after a witch had warned her that something was going to come after her…not so much. 

Speaking of that witch…Caroline didn’t trust her. She believed that Kylie had a lot riding on this. She believed that Kylie wanted Madame Lalaurie dead. But all that meant was a truce and a temporary ally. Caroline somehow doubted that Kylie had left purely to get Elijah and Rebekah. She had something else in mind. 

A smarter plan would be to leave and get the Originals herself. But she’d already opened the trapdoor. Madame Lalaurie had been alerted that someone was in her church. It was too late to turn back now. Besides, her heart began to hammer in her chest and she didn’t want to leave, not when she was so close to finding Klaus. 

Find Klaus, she quickly reminded herself. Then get out of town. Find him. And leave.

There was a rustling in the dark and Caroline jerked. She could see nothing in the darkness—something was shading her vision. 

“Madame Lalaurie?” Caroline challenged. “I’m not afraid of you. Stop lurking and come out and fight.” She bared her fangs, a surge of adrenaline fueling her instincts. But the corridor remained silent. 

She sighed and turned back around, nearly running straight into Elena Gilbert.

“Elena!” Caroline gasped. “What—how—what is—”

Elena’s brow furrowed in concern. “Caroline, what are you doing here?” 

“What am I—I could ask you the same—” She stilled, recalling Kylie’s warnings that Madame Lalaurie’s hex would cause her to see things. Furthermore, there was something not quite right about the figure of Elena standing before her. Like looking at an obviously photoshopped picture. 

“Great,” Caroline muttered. 

“Caroline, I’m worried,” Elena took her hand. “What are you doing here? Here of all places? Why are you helping the Originals?”

“It’s complicated,” Caroline wrenched her hand away. “And you’re not Elena. Elena’s in Mystic Falls, with Damon—so beat it!”

Elena shook her head, her soulful eyes filled with concern. “Caroline, this isn’t right. You don’t belong here. Have you forgotten everything they’ve done? Rebekah was the one who killed me, who made me become a vampire—and Klaus—you of all people should know and recognize the terrible things Klaus has done. He killed me. He killed my Aunt Jenna.” 

“I know that!” Caroline snapped. “I haven’t forgotten anything! But I don’t have time to be tormented by phantoms, so get away!” 

The image of Elena disappeared. Caroline heaved a sigh of relief, though her stomach clenched. Was it going to be like this the entire time? Having illusions of her friends appear and guilt her about what she was doing?

Why was she doing this?

“If it were the other way around,” Caroline said aloud. “They wouldn’t lift a finger to help me.” Her thoughts contradicted the words as soon as she spoke them. It may have been true for Rebekah, but would Klaus just ignore Caroline, if she were in peril? She tried to believe that he wouldn’t bat an eye but found herself unable to.

“Do you really think that low of me?”

“I’m harder to kill than you think.”

“We’ll save Elena. Go home, lock the doors. Do you understand?”

“There’s plenty of these to go around. I can do this all day.”

Maybe that was the crux of all this, Caroline thought to herself as she pushed forward. She knew in her heart that if she were in trouble, Klaus wouldn’t hesitate. That was the reason. One semi-decent turn deserved another, as they said. 

She stopped short when she heard a rustling in the dark. She tensed a little, wondering what phantom would be tormenting her this time, when Stefan Salvatore emerged from the shadows.

Great, Caroline thought. We’re just going to go through all of my friends. Welcome to the Caroline Forbes guilt trip!

“Are you all right?” Stefan asked her seriously. “There’s some nasty stuff down here, take it from me…”

“Stefan,” Caroline took a deep breath. “Or—not-Stefan. Please just go away, okay?”

His lips twitched. “You know me better than that, Caroline. And you know I can’t let you rescue Klaus.” 

“I know Stefan,” Caroline snapped. “And you are definitely not him. Get out of my way!”

The phantom raised his hands. “All right, you caught me. Not like Stefan really would be here, anyway. I mean, come on, Caroline. When have you ever been a first priority to anyone? Caroline Forbes, the afterthought.”

“Shut the hell up,” Caroline ordered, attempting to push past him. He was build like a brick wall and not even her extraordinary strength could budge him.

“I’m just being honest, Caroline,” Stefan informed her. “I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know. Remember when you liked me? I wanted Elena. And was there ever a moment when you were dating Matt where he wanted you more than Elena? I don’t think so. Even Tyler decided his revenge was more important—”

“Shut up!”

Instinct took over and she snarled at him, baring her fangs, and attacked. He shoved her away easily, pinning her to the wall. 

“You’re not real,” She hissed at him. “You’re not!”

“Maybe not, but I promise you, I can really kill you,” Stefan said earnestly. A stake materialized in his hand and he brought it towards her chest, pushing it into her ribs.

“What—are—you?” Caroline gasped. 

“The better question,” Stefan cocked his head and looked at her, as if completely captivated by her. “Is what are you?”

She was done playing games with this hex. As soon as he spoke, she used this as an opportunity of distraction, twisting the stake away from him and driving it into his gut. The phantom smiled rather than screaming in pain, as the real Stefan would have done, but thankfully dissolved into dust.   
Her heart hammering, Caroline tried to catch her breath. “Keep it together,” She said through gritted teeth. This thing was playing her, bringing up all her old insecurities and fears. And she had a limited amount of time—any moment now, Madame Lalaurie could show up and Caroline was not at all sure how she would fare against a witch who’d managed to capture Klaus. 

She took a step forward, trying not to let the feelings of panic and fear overwhelm her. Right as she placed her foot, she caught a strange scent of dank open air, and then she fell. The ground caved in beneath her and she shrieked, tumbling down what felt like an air shaft. Like a cat, she landed on two feet, but the shock dizzied her. 

“Klaus?” She straightened nervously. “Are you here?’ Nothing but silence answered her, save a few skittering rodents that made her wrinkle. 

“Klaus, seriously, making a freaking noise or something!” Caroline shouted. She shivered when she felt something scamper over her boot and continued to walk forward.

She shrieked again when she felt someone grab her shoulder.

“What are you doing here, Caroline?” Tyler Lockwood was facing her, his face filled with fury. Her stomach dropped and a rush of emotion surged through her—anger, hurt, sadness, love—even seeing his face was difficult. 

“Tyler,” She breathed. “I mean—you’re not Tyler!”

“What are you doing here, Caroline?” Tyler demanded again and the rage in his eyes quelled her. It looked familiar. She’d seen that rage before. 

“You’re here to save Klaus, aren’t you,” He spat. “Admit it. Just admit it.” 

“You’re not real,” Caroline snapped. “Get out of here! Be gone!” She snapped her fingers in emphasis but the Tyler phantom didn’t budge. 

“Tell me the truth,” Tyler ordered. “The moment you heard he was in danger, you went to go save him. You want to save him. Another one of your projects.” 

“Shut up!” Caroline snarled. She pushed past him, trying to ignore how real he felt. Tyler had every reason to hate Klaus. He’d had every reason to hate her for sleeping with Klaus, never mind how long ago it had happened. 

Suddenly, his hands were around her neck and he was slamming her at the side of the wall. “Tell me the truth!”

“Let go of me!” Caroline gasped, choking. “Let go!” 

“You want to save him,” Tyler growled, his face shifting, fangs lengthening. Caroline watched in horror—werewolf fangs. One bite and she was dead.

“This isn’t real,” Caroline bared her teeth. “You’re not real!” With every ounce of strength, she shoved him off her. Just a nightmare. Just a bad dream. Tyler isn’t…

Isn’t he? A nasty little voice asked her. Isn’t this just how he’d react if he found out where you are? What you were doing? Isn’t this how any of them would react if they knew you were trying to save Klaus?

“Fine,” Caroline whispered to the phantom. “I do want to save him. What does that make me? Stupid? Naïve? Fine. Will it make my friends hate me? They have that right. But I’m not going to let him die. Not like this. Not here…”

Tyler stared at her to her shock, his phantom began to melt away. It was then she heard a faint clapping. Someone was…applauding her?

“I must say,” An unfamiliar voice intoned. “This just gets more interesting by the second.” 

He was as thin as a shadow, wearing a dark top hat. His skin was dark but his face appeared skull-white—and he wore sunglasses. Somehow Caroline knew that if he removed them, she’d see haunting eyes black as coal. His fingers never seemed to stop moving, whether fidgeting with the cigar he carefully smoked or idly spinning a glass of rum between his bony fingers. 

“Who the hell are you?” Caroline demanded. “Where’s Klaus?”

“Klaus is a little tied up at the moment,” He grinned at her. “But not to worry. He’ll still be there, as soon as we have a little chat.”

“Who are you?”

He swept off his top hat in an exaggerated bow. “Forgive me. Introductions are in order. I am called Baron Saturday. And you, of course, are Miss Caroline Forbes.” His accent was a rich Louisiana drawl but the name meant nothing to Caroline. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Caroline’s eyes flickered. “I have to—”

“If you’re worried about Madame Lalaurie, it’s a very just worry,” Baron Saturday tilted his head. “But I’ve not alerted her as of yet. Soon—but not yet.” 

Caroline’s eyes widened. “You—you’re the hex?!”

“What a demeaning term,” the Baron scoffed. “A hex indeed. I am much more than that, Miss Forbes.”

Caroline stared at him wide-eyed.

“The fact of the matter, as dangerous an enemy as Madame Lalaurie is, she has the dreadful habit of biting off more than she can chew,” He snickered. “Not much has changed from her first liaison with the Crescent City…and she has called on some forces of which she has no comprehension. Like me.” 

“Wait a second—so you’re some kind of voo doo spirit—so you’re…you’re not on Madame Lalaurie’s side?” Caroline tried to process his words. 

“There is no side, darlin’,” the Baron chuckled. “Madam Lalaurie invoked me—pretty unwise on her part, to be frank, considering her tricks with my own followers. But then again, very wise on her part. Vampires…you could say they are my area of expertise. And I won’t deny, I am fascinated by you, Miss Forbes.” His voice became velvet and he gazed at her with a strange mixture of admiration and curiosity. It was an almost heady, lusty look—an expression that made Caroline distinctly uncomfortable. 

“So—are you going to stop me from finding Klaus?” She balled up her fists. “I mean, it’s been you, hasn’t it? The one who’s sent the fake Elena, the fake Stefan, the fake Tyler?” 

“Yes, it was, but not on Delphine Lalaurie’s behalf,” the Baron replied easily. “I wanted to understand, you see. Wanted to know how invested you were in saving Klaus.”

“Why do you care?!”

He grinned broadly, a grin that made Caroline shudder. “You have absolutely no idea, do you? How remarkable you are? How rare? No wonder Klaus is so enraptured by you…light and darkness always did have a way with each other…”

“Just tell me what you want!” Caroline shouted. 

Baron Saturday placed a palm over his heart. “Not a thing, darlin’. Far be it for me to stand in the way of destiny. If you go straight down this corridor,” He moved aside, revealing another passageway. “You’ll find Klaus.”

Caroline narrowed her eyes in distrust. 

“Oh, I’m not lying,” the Baron chuckled. “You will find him. He’s going through the most excruciating agony, you know—and is dealing with it by escaping into the few moments of goodness and light he has.”

He glanced at his watch. “Now, I really do have to dash, darlin’. An invocation is an invocation, after all. You’ll have twenty minutes before Madame Lalaurie finds you.” He turned away from her, walking in the opposite direction, humming to himself. 

“Why—why are you helping me?” Caroline burst out. “If that’s even what you’re doing!”

The Baron paused. “Well, there’s the practical reason,” He murmured. “That the Celastin family has been one of my most devoted followers, and though the rules of magic are against them now, I’d like to see them play their final hand. And then, I’ve always had a soft spot for beautiful ladies.” He winked at her, toasting her with his glass.

“And of course,” the Baron finished. “The fact that I am now very interested in your future, Miss Forbes. There’s never been a vampire quite like you, you know. So full of light and purity—a most intriguing paradox. Yes, we’ll keep special tabs on you, never fear.” He winked at her one more time and disappeared. 

Caroline swallowed, unsure what to think. There was absolutely no way she could trust this Baron Saturday spirit—whatever he was. She wished Bonnie was here to explain what exactly was his deal. Or Kylie. 

But they weren’t here. It was up to Caroline to save Klaus and if the Baron was right, she had twenty minutes to do so. She turned towards the corridor and started down it, entering the inky blackness.

****

Light. Caroline blinked, taking it in. She was no longer standing in a dark corridor, but in a beautiful ballroom. Lights decorated the banisters and windows, and everyone around her wore formal attire. She gasped in recognition—she’d been here before. She glanced down at herself, and sure enough, she was wearing the dress—the first dress Klaus had gotten her. It felt like a lifetime ago, that party…

She noticed him then, staring at her from across the crowd, looking as though he’d never seen a woman before. Had they gone back in time? He was wearing that tux that looked so incredible on him it wasn’t fair, and she remembered how she had stiffened, refusing to allow her bones to turn to water. 

Where were they? How did they get here?

“Good evening,” Klaus murmured to her and hadn’t this already happened?

“Klaus,” Caroline said desperately. “What’s—” 

“Tonight’s pick is a centuries’ old waltz, so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom.”

It was Elijah’s voice. This was insane—had Baron Saturday sent her into the past? She walked briefly away from Klaus and sure enough, there was Elijah, toasting the crowd. Just as she remembered it. But before she could fully process what was happening, Klaus was by her side again.

“May I have this dance?” He requested. 

“We can’t—Klaus—” Caroline said helplessly. “Klaus, I’m trying to find you!”

“And I’m right here,” Klaus smiled at her playfully. “Shall we?” He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor and she tried not to scream in frustration. 

Why are we here? Caroline thought frantically as they glided across the dance floor, just as they’d done so many years ago. 

He was looking at her in that way again, the way that made her heart flutter and stomach drop, that way that made her tell herself over and over again that he meant nothing to her. 

“I’m glad you came,” Klaus told her and she tried to remember what she’d said back to him. 

“I—didn’t have anything better to do,” She was uncomfortably aware of how her rationale mirrored saving Klaus. Rebekah, I’m just here to get you to leave me alone after this. I don’t care about Klaus, it’s just a one time thing.

“I heard about your father,” He stated and a flash of pain surged through her.

“Klaus—this isn’t the time for this,” Caroline tried again. 

“Very well,” He acknowledged. “Onto more mannered subjects like how ravishing you look in that dress.”

If this was her memory, why couldn’t she stop it? Why couldn’t she change it? Breaking the illusions had worked for the phantoms, why not now?

“And the bracelet I gave you, what’s your excuse for wearing that?” Klaus prompted and Caroline was rather tired of this. 

“Okay, weird memory-Klaus, we can’t mess around anymore, I need to get the real you out of here!” Caroline informed him in frustration. “So just—be gone!” 

His visage didn’t flicker once and Caroline realized he looked different from the phantoms—more real. But why couldn’t she affect this memory? She knew her mind, she understood it, she should have control.

Unless this wasn’t her memory.

What was it that Baron Saturday had said? He’s going through the most excruciating agony, you know—and is dealing with it by escaping into the few moments of goodness and light he has.

Her. Klaus was thinking about her, was escaping the pain through memories of her, and she was stuck in the cycle.


	4. Chapter 4

“Klaus,” Caroline tried. “You have to listen to me. This isn’t just a memory, I’m really here.” 

He smiled at her almost indulgently. “You know, you’re quite the dancer.”

“Yes, I’ve had training, I was Miss Mystic Falls,” Caroline snapped impatiently. “Klaus, seriously! We have to get out of here!”

“I know,” Klaus murmured to her and she gasped as the ballroom began to melt away. Caroline blinked, suddenly standing in daylight. 

They were walking together, and Caroline’s ballgown was gone, replaced with one of her old favorites—the gold dress that skimmed her thighs. Klaus was once again wearing a suit and a pale blue tie, with an expression that indicated he knew something more than her. 

“The pageant,” Caroline said suddenly. “The one where you were my date. That’s where we were. And I asked you if you’d ever take the cure.”

“Now why would I want to cure myself of being the most powerful creature on the planet?” Klaus asked philosophically, taking a seat on the bench. He poured them both a glass of champagne.

Caroline sighed. “God, are we just going to go through all the memories of us together? Come on, Klaus, we don’t have much time!” 

He didn’t seem to be listening. Perhaps he couldn’t even hear her. “Life used to be a lot easier. Don’t you miss the days of being…chair of the Mystic Falls beautification league? And the director of the policeman’s yearly raffle.” He withdrew her application with flourish and she winced.

“God, this again—you better have thrown that away!” She made a grab for it, but of course, she missed and he continued to read, barely stifling chuckles as he did so. 

“When I am chosen, I intend to redefine excellence—now, I’m really enjoying your use of ‘when’ here, it’s very confident.” Klaus looked just as gleeful as she remembered and she couldn’t help giggling in spire of herself. she recalled how much this moment had thrown her. He’d teased her like he was any other teenage boy at Mystic Falls. She remembered thinking, If he was like this all the time…I’d be in serious trouble.

“Klaus, please,” Caroline attempted to grab his arm. “You have to snap out of this. I’m here, I’m here for real! Please, listen to me!”

The images shifted and Caroline was staring at Klaus. They were in his old mansion in Mystic Falls and he’d taken her hand. He was staring at her in admiration and gratitude, emotions so sincere that once again, it threw her.

“Thank you,” He said softly. “For helping me.”

When Silas had gotten inside his head. “Klaus,” Caroline said desperately. “I’m trying to help you now! You’re still in danger! This is a real crisis here!”

The images flickered, but they were still inside Klaus’ house. He was looking at her in exasperation and mild amusement. 

“It’s not funny!” Caroline shouted. “Madame Lalaurie could be here any second!”

“I know, I know,” He attempted to compose himself. “But surely finding another dress is well within your substantial vampire capabilities?”

Her prom dress. One of the memories that he was escaping inside was her asking him for a prom dress? There was none of the darker moments, the screaming, the anger, the hurt.

But with Madame Lalaurie torturing him, would he really want to revisit those moments and add additional pain? Her relationship with Klaus had rare moments of joy.

And to be fair to him, the dress, the Princess-Grace-of-Monaco dress that he’d found for her had been above and beyond perfection. She had been so delighted, so happy to have a dress unlike any other. She’d asked Klaus how she looked with a twirl and he’d smiled at her and said she looked stunning, as always.

She was losing it. She was becoming lost in the memories as well. “Klaus!” Caroline shouted. “Klaus, please!”

The vision melted again and it was evening. She stood on the graduation stage and shivered a little. He was behind her. 

“I was already on my way,” Klaus told her. “I received your graduation announcement.”

“I know you did—I mean, this has happened before! Klaus!” She was so frustrated, she could feel her eyes filling. 

“I’d considered offering you a first class ticket to join me in New Orleans,” Klaus continued. “But I knew what your answer would be.” 

“Klaus, that’s where I am!” Caroline shouted, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m in New Orleans. You wanted me to come, here I am! Snap out of it!”

“Tyler is now free to return to Mystic Falls,” Klaus didn’t heed her, but his eyes were sad. “He’s your first love. I intend to be your last.” He leaned to her and kissed her cheek, lingering just a little. 

She grabbed his face. “What am I supposed to do? What will snap you out of this?” She demanded. “Am I just supposed to play along with every single stinking memory of me you have in your subconscious?” 

Caroline let out a loud expletive when once again, the memory shifted. It was daylight now, and the two of them were standing in the woods. She blinked in confusion as he gazed at her intensely.

“I want your confession,” Klaus said firmly.

“My confession about—” Caroline stopped short. She remembered this. 

“Me,” Klaus finished for her and there was no way in hell she was reliving this memory.

“Okay, look you,” Caroline shouted. “This is one memory I am not going to act out for you! I’m here to freaking rescue you, so could you please just wake up already!” In a burst of adrenaline and instinct, she slapped him hard across the face.

And suddenly, the memory shattered. Caroline was standing in a dark room, staring at Klaus, who appeared to be unconscious, bare-chested, chained to the wall, covered in blood. Somehow, sunlight streamed through the basement and over and over, Klaus burned.

****

“Shit!” Caroline exploded. Like a flash, she darted towards the windows and pulled the curtains, blocking the sunlight. They were underground, how could there be sunlight? She turned towards Klaus, relieved that the flames licking his body had immediately been smothered. If he had been anything other than an Original, he’d be dead. 

“Klaus,” Caroline said desperately. She went to him, lifting his face. “Klaus, wake up! Are you all right? Klaus!”

His eyes flickered at her and he swallowed. His badly burned chest shook slightly and she realized he was laughing.

“Ah, what a trick,” Klaus mumbled. “Just when I thought there was something you couldn’t torture me with—well done, Madame Lalaurie. Your illusions are getting better with each passing day.”

“It’s not a trick, it’s me, Klaus!” Caroline sighed in frustration. Not quite what she imagined her reunion to be. 

“But you’ve made one fatal error, Lalaurie,” Klaus said spitefully. “As if this shallow hallucination could fool me. You don’t know Caroline. She would never come here.”

Caroline stilled. Is that what he really thought? That she hated him enough to just leave him to rot when his life was in danger?

“I thought you knew me better than that, Klaus,” Caroline said firmly. “You’re in for a shock, then.” She attempted to pull the chains off the wall and yelped   
when they burned her palms. They had been drenched in vervain. She swore again and gritted her teeth, biting her tongue through her teeth as she used all   
her strength to yank them from the ceiling. Klaus fell against her like a sack of potatoes and she glanced around nervously. It couldn’t be that easy to get Klaus unchained. 

Then again, perhaps Madam Lalaurie never thought anyone would get this far.

“Klaus,” Caroline struggled to keep him upright. “Come on, Klaus, get it together. God, how long has it been since you fed?”  
He mumbled something against her shoulder.

She sighed in exasperation. “Okay, I’m going to do something incredibly stupid. But we don’t have time for anything else.” She faltered for a moment and then with more resolution, bit savagely into her wrist. She let him sag against the floor, kneeling down with him and pushed her bloody wrist to his mouth.

“Suck, don’t bite,” She ordered. “I’m serious, Klaus. I cannot carry you out of here with werewolf venom in my system. Do you understand? Suck, don’t bite.” 

There was the faintest trace of humor in his eyes that indicated that her phrase would certainly be turned into innuendo later on, but his tongue flicked out and be began obeying her command. Caroline thanked her lucky stars that he had enough lucidity to listen and she did not feel his teeth puncture anything further. It was a messy job of feeding, as he only used his lips, but it worked nonetheless. 

“All right,” Caroline lifted him upwards. “I need you to lean on me. We’re getting out of here.” 

Klaus looked at her in deep suspicion. “You cannot be real.”

“Klaus, I just ripped you free from your chains, let you feed on me, despite your bite having the capability to kill me—what exactly will make you believe that I’m actually here?” Caroline demanded.

“She wouldn’t be here,” Klaus said with dull confidence. “She’d never come to New Orleans. She’d say no.”

“Whatever,” Caroline rolled her eyes. “If I have to carry you out of here, so be it. But we need to get a move on.” She wrapped his arm around her shoulders, taking most of his weight. She had a brief flash of a memory where Klaus once praised her desire to remain a vampire. You like being strong. Fearless. Well, there was no denying she wouldn’t be able to do this as a human.

They’d almost made it halfway out of the dungeon when a woman suddenly appeared before them.

“Now where do you think you’re taking my little pet?”

****

Madame Lalaurie was not how Caroline had imagined her. But on second thought, what she really expected? An old crone? Someone in a KKK ensemble?   
Delphine Lalaurie was…genteel. Her voice was soft as velvet, her hair was artfully gathered to the nape of her neck, and her clothes, though extremely old-fashioned, were elegant and refined. She almost looked like an older version of Melanie Hamilton from Gone with the Wind, a deeply disconcerting comparison. Caroline stared at her, swallowing hard, trying to think of a Plan B.

Madame Lalaurie regarded her. “Now who might you be?” She wondered aloud. “I thought perhaps Rebekah, but you lack that certain air the Originals’ possess.” 

“Get out of my way,” Caroline snarled.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Madame Lalaurie purred. “For now, I’m intrigued.” She snapped her fingers and Caroline felt as though the floor fell beneath her. There was a terrible yawning maw before them all and she shrieked—but when she opened her eyes, she stood in the sanctuary of the church. 

“Much better than a dusty basement,” Madame Lalaurie said with approval. “Now why don’t you drop my hybrid, dear? Then we can have a nice little chat on how you got through my hexes unscathed.”

“Forget it,” Caroline growled at her. “I’m leaving and I’m taking Klaus with me. You can’t stop me.”

Madame Lalaurie chuckled. “I admire a girl with spark. I can tell you come from good stock, good Southern lineage. And—what a queer little thing you are. Vampire…and yet so much light. Purity. How strange.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe not,” Madame Lalaurie acknowledged. “You’ll have to illuminate me.” She flicked her wrist and Caroline and Klaus slammed against the altar, pinned together painfully. Madame Lalaurie neared them gracefully, examining Caroline closely.

“I have to admit, I am surprised, Klaus,” Madame Lalaurie remarked. “I’d expected your lovely family to attempt a daring rescue, but I had no idea you had such a pretty lover waiting in the wings.”

“Leave her out of this,” Klaus rasped. “Let her go, Lalaurie.”

“I’m not his lover!” Caroline struggled against the invisible bonds. “And I’m not going to let you enslave anyone ever again!”

“Oh no?” Madame Lalaurie pressed a finger to her chin. “So you are here to rescue him from my evil grasp, is that not correct?” 

She folded her arms and laughed. “Enslavement is nothing new to Klaus Mikaelson. Were you this determined to free his own hybrid slaves, I wonder?”

“Actually, I was,” Caroline snapped. “You don’t know anything about me, lady.”

“Very true,” Madame Lalaurie said demurely. “Let us find out then.” She raised a palm and Klaus stiffened. Whatever bound him to the altar seemed to lift and he took a staggering step towards Madame Lalaurie. 

“Sire bonds are finicky things to duplicate,” Madame Lalaurie remarked. “But it appears I’ve got the hang of it, don’t you think?”

She cleared her throat. “Tell me, Klaus—who is this girl?”

Caroline watched in horror as Klaus answered in a dull monotone. “Caroline Forbes. Of Mystic Falls.”

“And what is her connection to you?”

“I love her.”

Caroline’s heart lurched at the bald admission. Klaus’ eyes were filled with rage at Lalaurie’s control but his answers remained steady.

“And does she,” Madame Lalaurie smirked. “Does she love you?”

“No,” Klaus’ reply was stark and Caroline swallowed.

“What a tragic love story,” Madame Lalaurie said mockingly. “But why would she be here, I wonder? Why doesn’t she love you?”

“She loves someone else.”

“And who might that be?”

Klaus gritted his teeth, apparently making an attempt to resist the sire bond. “She loves—she loves Tyler Lockwood. Another hybrid.”

A slow smile spread on Madame Lalaurie’s face. “Well, well. The plot thickens. And would this other hybrid happen to be one of your former slaves?”  
His eyes burned but he answered. “Yes.” 

“This just gets more fascinating by the minute,” Madame Lalaurie remarked. “Like a Greek tragedy. It seems to me that Klaus Mikaelson has given you every reason to hate him. So what on earth are you doing here?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to someone like you,” Caroline spat. 

Madame Lalaurie’s eyes darkened. “Perhaps not. You do intrigue me, but if you are going to be unreasonable, you’re no further use to me.” She turned towards Klaus.

“Klaus,” She said in a purring voice. “Kill Caroline Forbes.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Kill Caroline Forbes.”

The words reverberated through Klaus’ broken and bleeding body like a poison. His mind screamed against the command as he slowly turned his head towards Caroline. Her eyes widened and she pressed her lips together, a sure sign that she was stifling fear. Fear. Fear of him. Theone person who had never shown him a trace of fear, daring to yell at him or scold him like a child, was now looking at him like he would kill her.

No. He wouldn’t. He could fight this.

“Did you hear me, Klaus?” Madame Lalaurie asked in a sing-song voice. “I don’t believe I stuttered. Kill her.”

Klaus’ fangs began to lengthen in preparation of the fatal bite, his eyes darkened and he growled. Everything inside him was demanding to tear into Caroline’s soft, vulnerable flesh, to destroy her. End her. 

“Klaus, don’t,” Caroline whispered. “You can fight this. I know you can.”

He refused to step forward or backwards, knowing that any movement would be an action to kill Caroline. He forced himself to look away from her, to lock eyes instead with Madame Lalaurie.

“Repeal the command,” He snarled at the witch. “Now.”

“My, my, you’re getting rather feisty, aren’t you,” Madame Lalaurie chuckled. “I do love a good love story, you know. I have been married twice, after all. I’m as romantic as they come.” She walked towards Klaus, her rancid breath filling his nostrils.

“I want you to take her by the throat,” She whispered. “And sink those lovely fangs of yours into her skin. Show her the monster you truly are. Show her that after all her efforts…there is nothing left of you to save.”

The words flowed through his veins like electricity and he was suddenly before Caroline, hands wrapped around her throat, ready to bite. She choked, grasping at his wrist, her blue eyes pleading with him. 

“Kill her,” Madame Lalaurie repeated, almost lazily.

“Don’t,” Caroline begged. “Klaus, please…”

The command pounded through his head. Kill her. End her. This was a nightmare he could not wake up from…nothing more than a monster, a beast who killed everything pure and good. Caroline should never have come here, she should’ve known better, known it was a fool’s errand—

But she was here. 

His grip on her throat slackened. Caroline was here—she had come for him. She had heard that he’d been captured, had been tortured by Madame Lalaurie, and despite everything—had come for him. She had accepted him. 

“What are you doing?” Madame Lalaurie asked sharply. “Kill her.” The words had just the same amount of potency, but there was something new burning in his chest, something he didn’t recognize. It went beyond not wanting to harm Caroline, it was something almost instinctive. It fought the command, tearing at its control and allowed Klaus a moment for an idea.

He stared at Caroline, willing her to understand. He twisted his head, making it look like he was about to plunge his fangs into her throat, but his hands loosened on her. Come on, my beautiful, clever girl…

And of course, her eyes brightened in comprehension, and she quickly snapped his neck.

****

“You damned fool!”

Caroline didn’t stick around long enough to hear Madame Lalaurie’s explosion. She hauled Klaus’ unconscious body onto her back and sped out of the church, her vampire speed saving them both. She was halfway out of that district when she realized Klaus was on fire.

Idiot! She darted into a broken down shop, a remnant of Hurricane Katrina, affording them darkness and shade and patted down the flames, sinking him onto the ground. She mumbled apologies to Klaus, feeling slightly sick that after all of this effort, he was still enduring agony. 

Caroline pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Rebekah, glancing nervously at Klaus’ unconscious body, while keeping a sharp lookout for any of Madame Lalaurie’s cronies. 

“There you are!” Rebekah exploded. “Where the hell have you been, I’ve called you at least eighty times!”

“I had my phone on silent, Rebekah, it’s kind of an idiot move to have your phone on while going scouting,” Caroline retorted. “I’ve got Klaus. You and Elijah need to meet me at an old hardware store about five miles away from the abandoned church—and quickly. See if Kylie has any spare daylight rings or pendants. And bring some blood bags. And restraints.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking—” Caroline pressed END and slipped her phone back in her pocket. She knelt down next to Klaus and inspected the burns and cuts on his body.

“Nothing a little blood won’t fix,” She said aloud. She was pleased to see that the earlier feeding had seemed to improve some of the more egregious wounds. She tilted his head towards her to examine a particularly nasty cut and paused, letting her hands linger on his cheekbones. 

Caroline exhaled, clearing her throat and removing her hands from the side of his face. Suddenly, his eyes flickered and he groaned in pain, shakily standing.

“Shit,” Caroline swore. She backed up into a patch of sunlight, a place Klaus couldn’t reach her and watched him carefully. 

He stared at her, a muscle twitching in his cheek. He gave her a small smile. “Stay in the sunlight.” 

She couldn't help but feel disappointed. “Her sire bond is still making you…want to kill me?”

Klaus nodded. They stood in silence for a moment and Caroline struggled to think of something to say. 

“Are you healing okay?” She asked finally, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Klaus examined himself—he was still bare-chested, but the third-degree burns had reduced into something that looked like a bad sunburn. The cuts had turned into pale white scars—a good dose of human blood, and they’d vanish entirely. 

“You let me feed on you,” Klaus said suddenly.

“Yeah,” Caroline cleared her throat. “You needed some of your strength back. I’m sorry, I know that’s kind of a breach in vampire etiquette—”

“I think we’re past that, love,” Klaus replied dryly and she gave a little half-shrug. The air in the room seemed to tighten and Caroline tried not to think how baldly Klaus had admitted to being in love with her to Madame Lalaurie—he was forced, but even so.

She gave him an awkward smile. “Elijah and Rebekah are on their way. They’ll have blood bags for you and probably restraints to keep you from killing me, once we’re out of here. They might have a daylight ring too. If not, you can use mine, I’ll just stay here till night and reconvene back at the house.” She was chattering like a teenager, but the silence was suffocating. Klaus’ stare was simply too intense for her to take without a barrage of words as protection. 

“Caroline,” Klaus said softly. 

“Yeah?”

He gave her another long look. There were a thousand questions in his expression and Caroline dreaded every single one of them. However, he seemed to be at a loss for which to ask.

He settled on, “How did you find me?”

She coughed. “Oh, um. Elijah and Rebekah found a witch that wanted to take Madame Lalaurie down. She worked a spell to find you.” 

“Lalaurie must have gotten careless,” Klaus said musingly. “I assumed she blocked a family blood spell.”

“I don’t know the details,” Caroline replied evasively. “But the witch—her name’s Kylie. She was helpful, although I don’t entirely trust her motives.” 

Klaus eyed her. “How did you hear…of my captivity?”

“Rebekah found me,” Caroline twisted a lock of blonde hair. “She said she and Elijah needed my help, that you were in danger.”

He gazed at her steadily. “And you came.” 

She shrugged. “Europe was getting boring.” 

Klaus chuckled, a deep throaty noise. “I’ve found traveling in Europe by yourself can get rather tiresome.” His words were veiled and she stiffened a little.

Caroline refused to dignify that with a response. She realized what a strange image they made, her standing in the sunlight, protecting herself while Klaus watched from the shadows, telling her to stay in the light where it was safe. It made a rather poignant metaphor. 

“I’m glad you came,” Klaus said quietly. “I wish it were under different circumstances.” 

She looked towards him, wondering how to respond, but before she could, Elijah touched her shoulder. 

“Caroline,” Elijah’s eyes were filled with relief. “Thank the gods, you’ve found him.” He went to Klaus immediately and embraced him tightly. 

“It’s not quite the time to celebrate, brother,” Klaus said methodically. Rebekah pushed past Caroline. Caroline noticed Kylie in the shadows, watching carefully.

“Take this, Nik,” Rebekah said eagerly. “Kylie had a daylight ring made.” She thrust a silver piece of jewelry and Klaus stilled.

“Thank you, sister,” He said politely. “Elijah, if you’d be so kind as to restrain me before slipping that ring on my finger, I’d appreciate it. Madame Lalaurie has manufactured herself a sire bond and thereby ordered me to kill Caroline. As I would really prefer not to kill my savior, I would be very grateful for your assistance.” 

Elijah’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t question it. He glanced at Kylie for assistance and she nodded towards him, stepping forward.

“I’ll cast something to keep him paralyzed,” Kylie sighed. “We can’t break the sire bond, but I might be able to break the command to kill Caroline.” 

Klaus eyed her. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Kylie Celastin,” Kylie said brusquely. She took his shoulder and looked intensely into his eyes, muttering something in what sounded like French. Klaus stiffened uncomfortably, his arms locking behind his back. 

“Keep a safe distance away from him, Caroline,” Kylie ordered. “He’s immobilized, but as my mother said, a stunned snake can still bite.” 

****

“Can you break the command?” 

Kylie shrugged. Caroline resisted the urge to scream in impatience. Klaus had ordered them to keep him in confinement and they’d followed his directions, locking him in the master bedroom. Kylie had placed several charms and marks on the door to keep him from exiting, so Caroline was safe—for now. Sire bonds were strangely complex and even Klaus didn’t comprehend all of the peculiarities. 

“Well, we know one way the sire bond will break,” Rebekah said promptly. “Kill the bitch, the link is broken. Simple.”

Kylie laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, kill the 300 year old leech who’s escaped screaming mobs, countless curses by voodoo queens a lot bigger than me—should be a piece of beignet.” 

“How has she even been alive for so long?” Caroline wondered aloud. “She’s a witch, not a vampire, right? Is it just that witches age slower?”

“I keep telling you, her energies aren’t her own, she siphons them from real witches,” Kylie said impatiently. “New Orleans witchcraft is all about our ancestors. Our magic is personal, the most intimate thing there is. It gets stronger every generation, but it must have a source point—a family cemetery is the most common. Somehow, and I don’t know how, but somehow Madame Lalaurie is using a source point of magic for her energies. I’m pretty sure she’s channeling the same spirits she channeled the first time she came to New Orleans, only now that they’re dead, it’s amplified.” 

Caroline’s brow furrowed. “There was a cemetery in the churchyard,” She mused. “But the graves were unmarked.” 

Elijah considered. “That area of town is very old, dating back to Lalaurie’s time. That church could’ve belonged to one of the witch families…” 

“It’s possible,” Kylie allowed. “All right. Let’s go into Klaus’ room, and I’ll see what I can do about that command to kill Caroline. She needs to come too—he’s still bound by my spell.” 

Elijah nodded and Caroline winced. Out of the pot and into the frying pan. Klaus couldn’t seem to escape being captive, whether by Madame Lalaurie or his family. 

The four of them strode down the hall, Rebekah and Elijah leading the way. Caroline jogged to catch up with Kylie, whose legs were significantly longer. 

“Hey,” Caroline huffed. “Do you know who Baron Saturday is?”

Kylie stopped short. “What did you say?”

“Baron Saturday,” Caroline repeated. “Some voodoo spirit or whatever that Lalaurie conjured, he appeared in the tunnels.”

Kylie’s face paled. “What do you mean appeared?”

“He appeared. Showed up. Said a bunch of really weird things, like how he was invested in my future and how he found me interesting—actually, I think he was hitting on me, come to think of it—and he said that the Celastin family was one of his most devoted followers and he wanted to see them play one final hand.” Caroline watched more blood drain from Kylie’s face. 

“He showed up for you,” She spat. “That’s what you’re telling me?” 

“I don’t even know who he is,” Caroline retorted. “Who is he, anyway? Why are you so pissed off?”

“Forget it,” Kylie said curtly. They reached Rebekah and Elijah at the doorway to the master bedroom. Kylie performed a complicated hand gesture that appeared to dissolve the marking on the door, unlatched it, and stepped inside. 

Klaus was seated in an armchair. He was savoring a blood bag while staring into the flames of a fireplace, a book in his lap. He glanced at their entry and tensed when he noticed Caroline.

“Get her out of here,” He ordered and Caroline was not blind to the naked fear in his eyes. 

“She’s fine,” Kylie brushed him off. “You can’t move from that armchair.” 

“I noticed,” Klaus said dryly. “Are you going to remove the command?” 

“I’m going to try,” Kylie said firmly. She went to him, placing her palm on his forehead, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. The lights flickered and the room hummed—the hairs on Caroline’s arms prickled. 

Klaus’ breathing became shallow and uneven. He looked as though he was in pain, gripping the arms of the chair—Caroline wasn’t sure, but it almost looked as though something flashed between Kylie’s palm and Klaus’ forehead. 

Kylie was speaking something that sounded a little like French. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her entire body shuddered. She cocked her head over her shoulder, looking directly at Caroline. 

“And who will pay the price?” Kylie asked in a strange, husky tone. 

Caroline’s heart stopped. There was something inside of Kylie. 

“What—” Caroline started to say and Rebekah grabbed her shoulder. She shook her head sharply. Don’t interrupt. 

But Kylie continued to look at Caroline, with nothing but the whites of her eyes, and giving her a half-smile. “So be it,” Kylie rasped. “The price is fair.” 

Klaus bellowed in pain and Kylie fell forward, fainting. Elijah caught her before she fell and the room fell dark.

****

Caroline rushed forward. Both Kylie and Klaus were unconscious—the darkness had thrown off the vampires’ vision only for a few seconds. Elijah checked Kylie’s pulse and exhaled slowly. 

“She’s over-exerted herself,” He gently set her down, leaning against the wall. 

“What the hell happened?” Caroline demanded. “She went all Exorcist!”’

“Caroline, that’s not uncommon for New Orleans witches,” Elijah explained. “They channel spirits for power. She asked for help breaking Klaus’ command…”

“But did you hear?” Rebekah struck a match and began to light candles. “There was a price. Spirits never do anything for free.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Elijah said and Caroline inhaled sharply when she noticed Klaus stand. Rebekah and Elijah turned quickly, looking wary. Elijah took a half step in front of Caroline. 

The corners of Klaus’ lips quirked at this. “It’s all right,” He said quietly. “I no longer feel Madam Lalaurie’s command.”

Elijah hesitated. “Brother—you would never forgive me if I let you hurt her…” 

“It’s okay,” Caroline stepped forward. “We’re not gonna know until we try. Besides, I’m tough to kill.” She grinned and Klaus returned the favor, nearing her. 

He stopped and for a moment, as the candles flickered in the darkness, it almost felt as though they were alone. Klaus didn’t attack her, didn’t move, simply gazed at her. She’d almost forgotten how enraptured he always seemed, just looking at her. 

“You’re free,” Caroline said simply and he smiled at her relief. 

“Not quite, I’m afraid,” Klaus broke the spell and turned towards his siblings. “The sire bond is still present. Kylie only broke the command, not the bond itself.”

“Can you break it on your own?” Rebekah mused. “Didn’t your hybrids break their sire bonds themselves?”

“It’s possible,” Klaus said impatiently. “But I don’t know how they did it. Just that Tyler Lockwood and the other little wolf were the ones to do so.” 

Caroline’s lips twisted. That certainly left them low on options. The last she’d heard, Tyler and Hayley were rearing a new pack somewhere in the Appalachians. Tyler’s revenge had halted in favor of tending to his pack’s survival and growth. It was a pity he hadn’t learned that five years earlier, or Caroline might still be with him. 

In any case, she doubted that Tyler or Hayley would be particularly willing to help Klaus. 

“We ought to draw her out,” Elijah said musingly. “Use Klaus as bait. She’ll want him back, he’s too much of a temptation to her, both werewolf and vampire energies considering.” 

“No way,” Caroline said flatly. “We just got Klaus back. Klaus lies low while we figure out a plan.” 

“Thank you for the concern, love, but this is my battle, and I will not sit in a room twiddling my thumbs while she is at large,” Klaus’ eyes flashed. “I agree with Elijah. We need to trap her. Lure her out.” 

“Yeah?” Caroline bristled at his dismissal. “And what the hell are we supposed to do if you get captured again? If the plan goes to hell and she starts sucking your energies and torturing you?” 

Klaus exhaled in exasperation. “Then you’ll find me again. Use the family blood spell, it worked well enough when you found me the first time.” 

There was a rather awkward pause. Caroline glared daggers at both Elijah and Rebekah. Elijah surreptitiously looked askance and Rebekah smirked. 

“Family blood spell?” Rebekah chuckled. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Shut up,” Caroline ordered.

“Tell me what?” Klaus wanted to know. “What are you talking about?” 

Elijah cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Rebekah, this really isn’t any of our business.”

Rebekah shrugged her delicate shoulders. “That’s a matter of opinion. Aren’t you always saying how family takes care of family?”

“What are you talking about?” Klaus snarled dangerously. 

“Rebekah, I’m warning you, keep your damn mouth shut!” Caroline shouted. 

“The hell are you all yelling about?”

The four of them stopped short as Kylie struggled to stand. She brushed off her jeans and coughed into her hand—Caroline’s nostrils flared when she saw blood on Kylie’s palm. 

Klaus stepped towards her and for a brief, shining moment, Caroline thought they’d escaped the subject and returned to taking down Madame Lalaurie. 

“Kylie, what spell did you use to find me?” Klaus demanded. 

She blinked. Neither of the Originals caught her gaze and Caroline stared hard at Kylie, mentally commanding her to keep her trap closed. 

“I don’t know why you guys are being so weird,” Kylie said finally. “Klaus was the one to make her his mate. I just made that link visible to me.” 

A silence fell over the group and Caroline resisted the urge to murder Kylie. Klaus stared at Kylie in confusion.

“I did…what?” There was an almost fear in his expression.

Kylie rolled her eyes. “You know, for someone who was so deadest on unlocking his werewolf side for the past thousand years, you sure don’t know much about your heritage. Wolves mate for life. And somewhere along the line, you made Caroline your mate.”


	6. Chapter 6

The silence after Kylie’s pronouncement was deafening. Caroline looked at the candles, the toes of her boots, and Rebekah’s dangly earrings—anywhere but Klaus’ face. 

“How—how could this have happened?” She heard Klaus say. He sounded grave, almost scared—Caroline blinked. She thought he’d be smug or gleeful. 

“I dunno, probably happened when you slept together,” Kylie rolled her eyes. “I’m not a werewolf expert, okay? Can we please get back to taking down Madam Lalaurie?” 

Klaus swallowed hard. Unable to resist, she stared at him fully and was shocked to see how pale and upset he looked. His lips were tightened, he was clenching his fists, and he had that familiar expression of self-loathing. 

“I think for tonight, we should all rest,” Elijah broke in. “Brother, you do not look well. I think you should take a blood bag and retire for the evening. We can reconvene in the morning.” 

Kylie shrugged. “Fine. I’m bringing my coven tomorrow, though—well, what’s left of my coven, anyway. And if you guys can keep your romantic drama to a minimum, I’d appreciate. We don’t need distractions right now.” She cast a suspicious glare at both Caroline and Klaus, which Klaus did not return. 

“Very well,” Elijah cleared his throat. “Caroline, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to one of the spare guest rooms. I believe it will suit you admirably.”

“Unless you’d prefer to stay with Klaus,” Rebekah suggested, her eyes glinting. “Since you are, after all—”

“Shut up.” 

Both Rebekah and Caroline started. Klaus glared at his sister. 

“Shut up,” He growled. “And leave. I want to be alone.” 

Slightly perplexed, Caroline exited with the rest. Her stomach lurched a little bit and she realized she was hurt—hurt of all things. It was ridiculous to be upset about his attitude—it wasn’t as though Caroline wanted to be his mate. 

Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

XXXX

Caroline couldn't sleep.

It was the room. The bedroom was creepy. It shouldn’t have surprised her that the Originals’ mansion would look like something out of a horror movie. The Victorian dressing table, the huge, ornate wardrobe that looked as though it led straight into Narnia—or Hell. 

Frustrated, she tossed aside the bedcovers and stood. She had a vague idea of going into the kitchen and fixing herself a cup of tea or helping herself to a blood bag in the fridge. But her path was rather aimless as she explored the house. 

The Originals had moved in a hurry. There was still dust and cobwebs over the picture frames, dirt in some of the corridors, and Caroline was fairly certain she saw a large spider scuttle across her path. The portraits were interesting—they had to date back to the 1700s and she was surprised to find a painting of Klaus on horseback. He looked a little too attractive with long hair for comfort. 

She found herself pausing outside the master bedroom before briskly shaking her head. She didn’t know why Klaus’ attitude was bothering her so much. She meandered down the corridor further, examining the portraits, nearly tripping over herself when she turned a corner. 

She found the kitchen but stilled when she noticed a light on. Cautiously entering, she inhaled sharply when she was Klaus, sitting at the counter, bottles of absinthe and vodka littered about. 

Caroline considered bolting but Klaus had already seen her. But never mind that, what the hell was he doing out of bed and drinking?

“Caroline,” Klaus gestured in welcome, knocking over an empty bottle in the process. “Welcome. Join me for a drink.”

“I don’t think so,” Caroline wrinkled. “What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting, getting your strength back.”

“Oh, my strength’s returned,” Klaus chuckled darkly. “We’re out of blood bags, by the way. Thought about finding myself a little human snack, but figured you wouldn’t approve of that sort of meal. So the only other option was to drink.”

Caroline snored, taking a seat. “Since when have you cared about what I want you to do?” 

“Oh, shouldn’t I care?” Klaus took another large swallow of absinthe. “Since we’re apparently mates.” 

Caroline flinched. “So that’s what this is about,” She said in a low voice. “That’s why you’re drinking yourself into oblivion? Fantastic. This is great news, seeing as we’re supposed to do battle tomorrow.” 

Klaus toasted her. “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.”

“Oh, knock it off!” Caroline shouted. “Look, I’m sorry this whole ‘mating’ thing is such a horror for you, but we have bigger things to deal with right now!”

“And I’m sorry too,” Klaus hissed, suddenly standing, nearing her. “I’m sorry that for even one bloody second, I ever thought that you would come here of your own freewill. That you would care enough about me to put aside the past, the differences. That you had that amount of—grace. Light.”

“What are you talking about?” Caroline wanted to know. 

“The mating bond,” Klaus said coldly. “You didn’t come here for me. You came because of it. You were as good as compelled.” 

Caroline’s mouth fell open. “That’s what you think?” She fairly shrieked. “You think I was forced to come here because of some stupid biological instinct?!”

He glared back at her, his expression so full of hurt and longing, it almost broke her heart to look at him.

Almost.

“Listen here, you,” Caroline ordered, stepping about an inch away from him. She jerked a finger at his chest. “I was not compelled here, nor was I forced, nor did I have no choice in the matter. You got that? No one decides my fate but me!”

Caroline was on a roll and yelling into his sullen, drunken face was very therapeutic. “If this stupid mating bond crap did have any freaking control over my freewill and choices, don’t you think I would have come to New Orleans a lot earlier? I mean, that’s what you wanted all along, right? But this is my life, and my choices. I told you a long time ago that they didn’t include you, but right now, they do, and it has nothing to do with any stupid mating bond! Got it?!”

She was about an inch away from his nose and standing on her tiptoes. Breathing hard, she watched with satisfaction as his eyes softened and he swallowed. It occurred to her that she was standing very close to him. 

“But you can’t know that for sure,” Klaus said quietly. “We don’t know what this link does. How it affects—us.” She was not imagining the small smile as he said ‘us’. 

“God, I am not reliving that whole Damon/Elena sire bond drama,” Caroline said in disgust. “Fine. Just order me to do something.”

His eyes flicked downwards and she realized he was staring at her mouth. She inhaled, trying to center herself, and only succeeded in making herself dizzy. 

The words were so soft, she almost didn’t hear them. 

“Kiss me.”

Her stomach flipped. Memories of the last kiss they shared flooded through her mind and she tried hard not to remember how good it felt to kiss him, how right. 

Caroline leaned forward. He barely closed his eyes and Caroline allowed herself the luxury of staring at his lips, letting that desire fill her. 

But instead, she smacked him sharply on the cheek and stepped away from him.

“See?” Caroline said triumphantly. “You can’t order me around. So stop drinking, stop acting like a moody teenager, and go to bed.”

And with that, she flounced out the door.

XXXX

Come morning, Klaus appeared to be in a better mood. Caroline carefully avoided his gaze and returned his greeting very politely, though without reaching his gaze. Elijah poured himself a cup of coffee and Rebekah sighed loudly. 

“Where is Kylie?” She demanded in irritation. “We said we would reconvene at nine.” 

“She said she was brining her coven,” Elijah replied reasonably. “But as we know, our relations with witches have not exactly been pleasant. It might take her a little bit.” 

Rebekah’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust her. All of the other witches we asked for help turned us down flat—with good reason. But Kylie said yes right away. She’s a little bit too agreeable, if you ask me.” 

“She knows something about the voodoo spirit I met in the tunnels when I was rescuing Klaus,” Caroline volunteered. “She wouldn’t say what. But it really pissed her off that he spoke to me.”

Elijah leaned forward. “What spirit?” 

“Baron Saturday,” Caroline crossed her arms. “Do you know who that is?”

Elijah’s brow furrowed. “You mean Baron Samedi—you’re saying he spoke to you? He had a corporeal form?”

Caroline blinked. “Um, yes?”

“Voodoo spirits don’t generally appear physically before mortals—or immortals, as the case may be,” Klaus explained. “They possess witches. Their followers. So the fact that one of the more powerful loa appeared before you—that would be an insult to Kylie and everything her family stands for.” 

Caroline frowned. “But Madame Lalaurie summoned him. Why didn’t he attack me? I mean, he sent some pretty freaky hallucinations. But I made it through….relatively easily.”

Klaus and Elijah glanced at each other uneasily. “I don’t know,” Elijah replied. “The loa…are unpredictable.”

There was a faint buzzing sound and Rebekah pulled out her phone. Her pretty brow furrowed and she wordlessly handed the phone to Elijah. 

“What is it?” Caroline wanted to know.

“A text from Kylie,” Elijah said slowly. “Her coven refused to meet with us, but Kylie’s given us directions to meet her.” 

Rebekah folded her arms. “How convenient. As per usual.” 

“Where does she want to meet?” Klaus asked calmly. 

“Outside of her mother’s voodoo shop,” Elijah replied. “But I fear our sister is right. Now that we have Klaus, we cannot depend on Kylie’s loyalties.”

“She’s aware we’re beginning to doubt her,” Klaus idly fidgeted with the rim of his coffee cup. “That’s why she did not meet us here. Very well. We’ll make haste to her little shop and see what news she has for us.” 

Caroline cleared her throat. “I still think it’s a stupid idea for Klaus to be wandering around New Orleans unprotected,” She said flatly. “We just got him back and there is nothing stopping Madame Lalaurie from snatching him again. That sire bond is still active, she could order Klaus to kill all of us.”

Klaus smiled at her. “I won’t deny that Madame Lalaurie caught me unawares—or the fact that I underestimated her power. But she won’t get the upper hand again, love. I promise.” 

Caroline disagreed but it appeared she was once again outvoted. 

“Is Caroline even joining us?” Rebekah asked slyly. “It was my understanding that she wanted to rescue Klaus and then return to her holiday.”

All three Originals turned towards Caroline. She threw Rebekah a withering glare and cleared her throat again. 

“I said I’d rescue Klaus, Klaus isn’t fully rescued while being bound to Lalaurie,” She said promptly. “After that—then I’ll leave.”

She could feel Klaus’ eyes upon her but she did not return his gaze.

XXXX

The French Quarter was a bustling area, filled with lights and sounds that permeated through every step. Caroline heard street performers, saw dancers, an impromptu parade—it was the most delightful paradox, a world saturated with spirits and death, yet full of glorious life. She tried not to let herself be captivated by its wild, untamed beauty. She could sense Klaus reveling in her wonder at his favorite city and it was deeply annoying to provide him that satisfaction. 

Elijah stopped in front a tiny little nook with a broken sign hanging before it: CELASTIN WARES. It didn’t look like much, not compared to some of the larger, grander voodoo shops that littered the streets. Frankly, it looked more like a dive than a shop.

Elijah opened the door and the four stepped inside. Caroline’s nostrils were filled with various pungent, musky odors—everything from cinnamon to animal blood. She wondered what it must be like for Klaus, with his hybrid senses, and hid a smile when she saw him grimace.

“Hey,” Kylie greeted them from behind the counter. “I made something for Klaus.” 

She held up a little leather pouch. “Gris-gris. Customized to hide the Original Hybrid. It won’t make you completely invisible to Lalaurie, but it’ll mask yourself pretty thoroughly.” 

Klaus wordlessly took the pouch, stringing it around his neck. Caroline watched him do so with deep reservations, but Klaus didn’t seem concerned. 

Kylie cleared her throat. “And since you were so curious about that werewolf mating bond thing—I asked a friend of mine from the local werewolf pack to answer any questions. He said he’d meet us later.” 

“Mm,” Klaus smiled at her, though it looked more like baring his teeth. “How obliging of you.” 

Kylie narrowed her eyes. “You guys got a problem with me?” She asked challengingly. 

“Not at all,” Elijah said smoothly. “We’re all after the same goal, aren’t we? The destruction of Madame Lalaurie. I’m sure Kylie is aware of the repercussions of betraying an Original, let alone all three of them. Klaus is just a little nervous, he did just return, after all.” He clapped a hand on Klaus’ shoulder and Kylie looked slightly discomfited. 

“All right,” Kylie said warily. “Well, I found some stuff out about that church we found Lalaurie in. We need to go to the churchyard, the one with the blank grave—”

“Kylie?” 

Caroline turned to see a frail little woman totter into the shop. She wore a cotton dress with a knitted shawl wrapped around her bony shoulders. She looked as if a sudden gust of wind would blow her away.

“Grand-mere,” Kylie swallowed. “I thought you were at Mass.”

The old woman ignored her. “Who are these?” She gestured towards the Originals and Caroline. Caroline noticed her eyes were a bright green and seemed full of life. 

Klaus smirked and Caroline got the uncomfortable feeling that he was pleased at this turn of events. 

“Well, well, well,” Klaus purred. “Kylie, is this your grandmother? What a charming woman. And you take care of her all by yourself?” 

Kylie clenched her fists. 

“Don’t you worry, Kylie,” Klaus said smoothly, giving Kylie’s grandmother a winsome smile. “We value the importance of family, don’t we, Elijah? Life is such a fleeting thing. We must cherish what we have while we have it.” 

“Knock it off,” Caroline snapped at him and was about to scold him further when the old woman’s eyes widened. She walked towards Caroline and took her hands. 

Caroline blinked. She looked at Kylie for explanation, but Kylie seemed just as bewildered at her grandmother’s behavior. The old woman’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed at Caroline. 

“Er—do—do I know you?” Caroline asked hesitantly.

The old woman released her hands and briskly wiped her eyes. “No, no,” She said sadly. “No, no. Poor sweets. Poor, poor sweets. Flames only flicker when they’re being blown about…poor sweets. You be good to her.” She directed her sudden and fierce command to Klaus. “You be good to her.”

Something prickled up Caroline’s spine at the old woman’s words, but Kylie gently took her shoulders and led her away. “C’mon, Grand-mere. Go to bed, you’ll feel better.”

There was a strange sort of silence as Kylie led her up the stairs and Caroline’s stomach lurched. She could feel the Originals staring at her—Rebekah with curiosity and suspicion, Elijah with calculation and concern, and Klaus…

Klaus’ expression was unreadable. 

“Sorry about that,” Kylie returned, folding her arms in front of her chest. “She gets a little weird sometimes.” 

Elijah cleared his throat. “You indicated that you had more information for us.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Kylie replied. “We should go to the churchyard, the one at Madame Lalaurie’s church.” 

Caroline worried her lip. “Isn’t that dangerous? Will she still be there, do you think?” 

“Maybe,” Kylie allowed. “I can mask Klaus’ presence pretty thoroughly, as long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. But my guess is she vacated. She’s probably still using that church’s energies—for reasons I’ll explain when we get there—but I doubt she’s physically there.”

“Well,” Klaus smirked triumphantly. “That settles that. Shall we, Caroline?”

XXXX

The sky was overcast when they left Kylie’s house, and Caroline’s nose prickled from the smell of rain. Kylie casually acknowledged that a storm was brewing and they ought to make their business fast—but Caroline remembered something Bonnie had told her. Natural events, like full moons or storms, were prime time for witches. She cast a quick look at Elijah, who seemed unsettled as well. 

“Here we are,” Kylie stopped in front of the little churchyard. “So here’s the deal. The land this church was built on belonged to Madame Lalaurie. Her husband owned a lot of little plots of land and developing areas, because he needed a lot of money to keep up with her lavish lifestyle—and she needed places to hide the bodies.”

Caroline sucked in her breath. 

“C’mon inside, Caroline,” Kylie said calmly, opening the gate and stepping inside the cemetery. Throwing a quick look at the Originals, Caroline followed. 

Klaus was only a few steps behind her when he suddenly snapped, “Stop.”

Caroline turned towards him, bewildered.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” Klaus hissed. Thunder rumbled and Caroline looked at Kylie. 

Kylie’s face was impassive. “Sorry, guys. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“What are you talking about?” Caroline demanded. “What’s going in?”

Klaus bared his teeth. “Invite us in, you witch, or you’ll never see your grandmother again,” He snarled at her and it hit Caroline—the Originals couldn’t enter the churchyard. 

“I’m not stupid, Klaus,” Kylie snorted. “You think I’d leave her unprotected?” 

“Let us in!” Rebekah snapped. “Now!”

“Kylie, what are you doing?” Caroline shouted.

Kylie snatched Caroline’s arm. The last thing Caroline saw was Klaus’ expression—murderous rage with the barest trace of fear in his eyes—and then her world went black.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the missing chapter. I'm sorry for those who went on to chapter 8 and went, "wait, what? How did Klaus get inside the Underworld? WHAT IS HAPPENING". Mea culpa. Imma update this thing tonight as penance.

Thunder roared, loud enough to make the ground shake and awaken Caroline. Stumbling forward, she stood, the flashes of lightning confusing her vision. She could no longer hear Klaus' angry yells, but she heard rain, a torrential downpour, by the sounds of it.

But she felt no wetness upon her skin. She could no longer see the Originals outside of the churchyard, fog obscuring everything—it was as if she were standing in the eye of a storm, an absurd sort of calm while the earth moaned and raged around her.

"Kylie!" Caroline shouted. "What are you doing?!"

The witch was standing in the middle of the churchyard, staring determinedly forward. She was looking forward, past the two largest graves at the very back of the cemetery, as if she expected something to walk through them. Thunder boomed again and Caroline shivered.

"Kylie!"

Kylie stiffened but did not turn towards Caroline. Her attention was captured by someone else, gracefully meeting her between the graves. Caroline felt weak.

Madame Lalaurie.

"Now this is a surprise," Madame Lalaurie purred. "I didn't expect you to call for me, of all things. Not that I'm complaining. I have been trying to reach you for quite a while now, Kylie."

"Save it," Kylie snarled. "And I wasn't trying to call you."

"Oh, of course," Madame Lalaurie smirked. "But you do understand, don't you? The Baron and I are on the same side, you realize. We both want the same thing. It would be best not to disappoint us, you know."

"I've given you my answer."

Madame Lalaurie laughed, glancing at Caroline. "And what is this? A gift to appease me? I am not so easily satisfied as that."

"You don't understand," Kylie said flatly. "I've spoken to the Baron—and he agreed! He said the price was fair! She can be your little plaything now!"

"You forget who is in control here," Madame Lalaurie said quietly. "I am the Queen of New Orleans—not the Baron. It is I who fixes the price, not him. And I won't deny she is lovely and interesting—" She quirked her fingers forward. Caroline felt as though an invisible line jerked her chest forward, pulling her towards the witches. She attempted to anchor her feet but only succeeded in turning up dirt piles as she was dragged.

"But she," Madame Lalaurie continued, amusedly tucking Caroline's chin. "Is not you, my dear." Caroline attempted to wrest her face away but found herself immobilized.

"But you don't know," Kylie retorted. "How could you? You have no natural gifts. But she is Klaus' mate. Klaus—the Original Hybrid." She folded her arms defiantly and Caroline tried to figure out what the hell they were talking about.

Something shifted in Madame Lalaurie's expression. She turned her cold, dark eyes towards Caroline and examined her thoroughly.

"Well, well, well," Madame Lalaurie murmured softly. "That does change things…"

"You'd have better luck with her than with me," Kylie balled her fists. "How many years has it been? 200 years, give or take? And you still haven't succeeded. And you never will, because my power is waning and I'm letting it fade freely. But Caroline's young—you've noticed her light, that aura of purity despite her vampirism. And you can't resist the Hybrid's allure either. That's why the Baron agreed, isn't it? He's curious as to what would happen."

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Caroline burst out.

"Quiet dear, the adults are talking," Madame Lalaurie said calmly and Caroline found her mouth slamming shut. "I won't deny your offer is intriguing…" She stepped forward, reaching forward to touch Kylie's cheek. Kylie didn't even flinch as Madame Lalaurie dragged her index finger down the side of her face.

"I always thought," Madame Lalaurie said musingly. "It was a shame about your color. Your lineage was so perfect…I've heard of half-breeds that could pass for white. But I suppose there's a certain logic to the Devil being black."

"Say that to me again," Kylie said acidly. "And I'll rip whatever shriveled entrails makes up your heart, mark my words."

Madame Lalaurie gave Caroline another long look. "Very well then. I accept your price."

Caroline felt her voice return. "What price?!" She demanded. "Kylie, what have you done?" She turned towards the witch she'd begun to believe was her ally.

"I'm protecting my family," Kylie replied coldly. "And myself. Nothing you wouldn't do if you were in my place."

"Kylie, don't!" Caroline tried to step towards her. "I don't know what you're doing, but you don't have to do this! We can take her down together, right now!"

Madame Lalaurie. "She is an optimistic little thing, isn't she? I am liking this deal more and more with each passing second. Of course…this will require the Hybrid."

"That's your problem," Kylie said flatly. "You've accepted my terms, that means you and I are done. The deal is complete. You will not come after me again. You will not harm my family."

Madame Lalaurie eyed her. "Your family. Interesting choice of words."

"Blood means nothing," Kylie spat. "You can tell the Baron I said so."

Madame Lalaurie sighed dramatically. "Very well, then. If these two are mates, then it shouldn't be hard to have Klaus come to me. I'll leave him a calling card." She laughed merrily and took Caroline's arm.

"Kylie, please!" Caroline shouted. A small flicker of regret swam across Kylie's features, but her face hardened and she turned away.

The storm stilled.

XXXX

Thunder boomed, shaking the debilitated church, and lighting sliced through the sky wickedly. Klaus bellowed in rage as Kylie and Caroline were swallowed up in some kind of thick fog.

"Caroline!" He screamed. "I'll bloody tear your grandmother in two, Kylie! Caroline!"

"I don't understand!" Rebekah shouted as it began to pour. "How can she keep us out? This isn't a house, it's a cemetery!"

Elijah drew his sister close. "Klaus, we need to go inside the church—the rain—"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Elijah watched in horror as his brother's eyes shifted into wolf eyes. Klaus' fangs bared and his face was becoming malformed—he was changing.

"Klaus, no!" Elijah grabbed his shoulders. "Klaus, regain control of yourself!"

Claws were elongating from Klaus' hands. Desperately, Elijah shook him.

"You will be of no use to Caroline if you start massacring people!" Elijah shouted. "Control yourself! Caroline needs you—needs you, Klaus, not your wolf form!"

Saying Caroline's name helped. The transformation slowed down and Klaus began to take deep breaths. Elijah swallowed in relief when his brother's fangs and claws receded and his eyes resumed their natural color.

"You're right," Klaus exhaled through his nose. "You're right. Both of you, stay here. This wolf best go get the grandmother for safekeeping."

Elijah shook his head. "I'm sure it's a trap. Kylie would not have let us see her grandmother if she weren't fully prepared for our counterattack—you'll only get caught further in her web."

"What does this mean?" Rebekah demanded. "Has that bitch been working for Madame Lalaurie all along?"

The sky flashed again and it began to pour. In helpless frustration, Klaus began to pace.

"Why would they want Caroline?" He burst out. "She has no connection to New Orleans! This is the first time she's ever been here. Aside from getting to me, why would Madame Lalaurie want her? Wouldn't it make more sense to find me first and then torment me with harming Caroline?"

"That's assuming Kylie is bringing Caroline to Madame Lalaurie," Elijah pointed out. "We don't know that for certain."

"What else could she be doing?" Rebekah threw up her hands.

"But Lalaurie just met Caroline, it wouldn't make sense—" Elijah argued.

"Enough!" Klaus thundered. "I don't bloody care anymore! But we are getting in that cemetery if I have to slaughter every last witch in the Quarter!"

Lightning cracked the sky open at his passionate pronouncement, and the rain suddenly receded. Klaus swept towards the gate and cried out in anguish. The fog had dissipated and Kylie stood in the middle of the churchyard. Caroline was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she," Klaus' voice was husky with rage and wolf-like snarls slurred every syllable.

Kylie didn't look impressed. She turned away from them, taking a deep breath—for a terrible moment, it looked like she too, would vanish from their sight. But suddenly, her eyes widened in shock—there was someone standing next to her.

He was thin as a shadow, with dark skin, yet a pale white face. He wore a tophat and smoked a cigar, while sipping a tumbler of rum.

"Mm, Kylie," He said aloud and Klaus narrowed his eyes at the stranger. "You disappoint me, 'cher."

Kylie looked paralyzed in shock. Apparently, whatever she'd done had not banked on a voodoo spirit interrupting.

"Baron Samedi," Elijah whispered tightly to Klaus. The same spirit who had visited Caroline, who had apparently let her roam through Madame Lalaurie's tunnels unharmed.

The spirit turned towards the Originals and beamed at them like a proud uncle.

"My children," He boomed. "I welcome you to my house. This cemetery—and every cemetery—is my home and kingdom. And therefore—I invite you in."

Elijah's eyes widened in shock but Klaus didn't hesitate. In a flash he was inside the cemetery, hands wrapped around Kylie's throat. He lifted her upwards, choking the life out of her.

"My patience has run out, Miss Celastin," Klaus hissed. "So I suggest you start talking. Where is Caroline?"

Kylie coughed. "She's—waiting—for you—" She said, her voice strangled. "Madame Lalaurie has her…"

"Wrong answer," Klaus' eyes darkened to amber and his fangs elongated. But before he could rip her traitorous throat out, Elijah snatched Klaus' shoulder and pushed him away.

"We need her," Elijah said gravely. Klaus snarled deep in his throat.

"If Caroline's hurt," His voice was raspy. "The witch burns."

XXXX

"What the hell do you want with me?" Caroline demanded. "What were you and Kylie talking about? What deal did you two make?"

They were in an abandoned building—apparently Madame Lalaurie was very familiar with the ruins Hurricane Katrina left behind. It made a perfect hiding place to be fair, but Caroline was in no mood for admiration.

Madame Lalaurie's eyes glittered. "You are a curious little thing, aren't you?" She remarked. She didn't seem irritated at the interrogation; Caroline rather suspected Lalaurie enjoyed the sound of her own voice.

"Do you have something on Kylie?" Caroline wanted to know. "She said something about you threatening her family—and that you had a history with her family!"

"Well, that, strictly speaking, is accurate," Madame Lalaurie chuckled. "But I wouldn't worry. You ought to enjoy yourself, Miss Forbes. After all, your lover will be here soon enough to rescue you."

Caroline wrinkled. "Oh my God, he is not my lover!"

"Oh no?" Madame Lalaurie examined her fingernails. "You're saying he won't come for you?"

Caroline chose to ignore that. "What did Kylie mean—her power was waning?"

A sly smile spread across Lalaurie's face. "My sweet Kylie is a stubborn little thing. And rash. Suffice it to say, Miss Forbes, you are a backup plan, as it were. Kylie should know by now I will never let her go."

"What are you talking about?" Caroline snapped.

"Kylie thinks she can pawn you off to escape her fate," Madame Lalaurie explained slowly. "But she is a fool. I never settle for half, I have always gotten exactly what I wanted—and more. The Hybrid will not let Kylie escape till you are found—and then I will have all three of you." She gazed out the window, a satisfied sneer painting her lips. Caroline felt like screaming in frustration.

"What fate?" Caroline snarled. "What are you even talking about?"

Madame Lalaurie arched an eyebrow. "Tell me, Caroline—do you know much of Marie Laveau?"

Caroline blinked. "Uh—some voodoo witch or something?"

"Not just some," Madame Lalaurie corrected. "The. The Voodoo Queen. An incredible woman with unimaginable powers…she and I had an understanding, you see. An understanding about my daughter, Cecile."

Caroline held her breath—it suddenly sounded like she was finally getting some answers.

"Cecile was a romantic, but she did not choose her lovers wisely—much like you," Madame Lalaurie chuckled. "She angered one of the loa—and with Marie Laveau's help, that loa cursed Cecile's bastard child. The devil's bastard. The devil baby of Bourbon Street."

Caroline stared at her, completely lost.

"Poor thing," Madame Lalaurie clucked. "You really did come to New Orleans unprepared, didn't you? Let's just say Baron Saturday has a fondness for pretty women and a fascination for death and life—he is a spirit of the crossroads, after all."

Something clicked in Caroline's mind. What was it that the Baron had said? The Celastin family has been one of my most devoted followers…I'd like to see them play their final hand.

"Wait a second," Caroline said slowly. "Are you saying…that Kylie is…your…?"

"Goddaughter, I never claimed her as a Lalaurie," Madame Lalaurie smirked. "I have enough pride to not flaunt my daughter's floozying. But yes, my granddaughter. It shouldn't surprise you—don't you know the devil doesn't age?"


	8. Chapter 8

The mood was tense in the Mikaelson house. It had taken a good hour of convincing Klaus not to kill Kylie after her betrayal—and Elijah wasn't entirely sure Klaus wouldn't try it as soon as his back was turned. It wasn't as though Elijah was overly fond of Kylie after the stunt she pulled, but tempers were very high right now, and it was up to Elijah to stay rational.

It was obvious to him why Madame Lalaurie had taken Caroline. A purely spiteful maneuver, to remind them that she had power over their lives—namely, Klaus'. But he was puzzled as to the current fascination with Caroline. He had known the girl for years and despite her loveliness and vivacity, he'd found nothing especially unique about her.

But perhaps he did not see her the way Klaus did. Better still. Klaus had never seen Katerina the way he had. Perhaps that was for the best. Elijah could think of few things more irritating and pointless as fighting over the same girl.

"Now that we're all together," Elijah cleared his throat. "And relatively calm," He shot a pointed look towards Klaus. "Why don't you explain to me what exactly transpired in that cemetery—and why Caroline was not with you when you emerged?"

Kylie's eyes flickered. She looked like a trapped animal, cornered and looking for a way to escape.

Elijah tapped his fingers on the dining room table. "Kylie, we don't have the luxury of patience at the moment. Every passing moment brings Caroline further into danger and with each passing minute, I in turn lose the ability to keep my brother from ripping out your throat. I suggest you start talking."

Kylie took a deep breath. "I'm protecting my family," She clenched her fists. "I'm doing no more than you would do in my position."

"And what is your position?" Rebekah inquired. "Because no one's arguing with that, sweetheart. But you're failing to realize that our pursuit of Caroline falls directly in that line of thought—protecting family."

Elijah raised an eyebrow at his sister and Klaus hid a smile. Apparently, somewhere between finding out about the mating link and Caroline rescuing Klaus, Rebekah had deemed Caroline family.

Kylie swallowed. "Madame Lalaurie has been harassing me and my family for years. If Caroline took my place—they'd be safe."

"How could Caroline take your place?" Elijah asked steadily. "Caroline is not a New Orleans witch. She's a vampire. She has no natural connection to nature nor the powers to call upon it."

Kylie's head lifted. "Her light."

Elijah and Klaus glanced at each other and Rebekah emitted a noise of frustration.

"I keep hearing about this light, what on earth are you even talking about?" Rebekah demanded. "What light, what innocence? She's a vampire. That humanity the Salvatores and Elena were so keen on harping about died with her. She's a creature of darkness, like the rest of us. Not to mention, she's of Klaus' line, and it doesn't get much darker than that."

Kylie rolled her eyes. "Her aura is different from most vampires. Usually you see dark colors, shades of night—but there's nothing but light around Caroline. Light auras mean goodness. Purity."

Rebekah narrowed her eyes. "Caroline is not a saint. I should know."

"No," Kylie acknowledged. "But nevertheless, her aura is different and it sets her apart. Madame Lalaurie was interested in it. So was the Baron."

Klaus' lip curled. "So you thought a new plaything for them would be enough to distract them from you." He took a dangerous step towards her but Elijah lifted his hand.

"Which brings us to the point," He said calmly. "Why is Madame Lalaurie interested in you?"

There was a pause at his words and Elijah was pleased to see that Kylie looked nervous.

"Rebekah," Elijah said calmly. "Break Kylie's neck."

Klaus sneered, stopping his sister. "That's a little quick for my liking, brother," He advanced towards Kylie, who remained motionless.

"Perhaps not," Elijah studied Kylie. "I have the strangest feeling that once you snap her neck, in a few moments, she will stand once again. You're not just an ordinary New Orleans witch, are you, Kylie?"

"All right!" Kylie held up her hands. "You win. I'll take you to Caroline. I know where they went. She wants me to lead you to her anyway. I'll lead you to Caroline and then we'll be square—okay?"

Klaus stepped towards her, staring down at her, sucking in his breath. "Not even close, Miss Celastin," He hissed. "Not even close. But you'll live a bit longer that way. Lead on."

XXXX

Strangely enough, Madame Lalaurie did not chain Caroline.

She barricaded her in what appeared to be the only room still standing in the house, placing a marking on the door that kept Caroline from breaking through. She removed Caroline's daylight ring as well, tossed her a blood bag, and disappeared.

This seemed a bit of a departure from how Klaus had been tortured.

After around an hour of demanding that Madame Lalaurie let her go this second, Caroline reverted to pacing around the debilitated room, kicking broken pieces of furniture out of her way. Why did this always happen? She'd lost count of the times the evil villain had captured her; it had been a nice change to actually do the saving for once.

"A lot on your mind, 'cher?"

Caroline spun around. "You!"

Baron Saturday lay sprawled across the broken mattress, smoking a cigar. He grinned lecherously at her, apparently enjoying her outrage.

"What the hell?" Caroline demanded. "Did Madame Lalaurie send you in here to mess with me again?"

"Nah, 'cher, Delphine Lalaurie would be most displeased if she knew I was here," the Baron said easily, taking another puff on his cigar. "Temperamental woman. Most are, you know."

"Oh, shut up," Caroline growled. "What the hell do you want? Whose side are you even on?"

"You are cute when you're mad," Baron Saturday grinned. "No sides, 'cher, remember? But I will let you out. This time."

"Wait a second," Caroline held up her hand. "That was you, wasn't it? Who possessed Kylie when she removed the command to kill me from Klaus? You made a deal with her. What was the deal?"

Baron Saturday chuckled. "Sorry, 'cher, that is between me and my girl."

"But it concerns me," Caroline pointed out. "That's why Kylie sold me out to Madame Lalaurie, isn't it?"

He clucked. "She shouldn't have done that. The point is to keep you and Klaus together, au naturale. But my girl Kylie has a tendency to bungle things. She thinks her position is bettered if Lalaurie has you both. Not to worry, though, 'cher. The natural order will be fixed, the king and queen will be placed back on their sides of the board." He took a long sip of his flask and Caroline tried to make sense of his prattle.

She gave up, crossing her arms across her chest and resorted to staring at him with great suspicion. He busied himself by tapping a complex rhythm against the door.

"Now that that nasty rite is gone," Baron Saturday purred. "You'll be free to go as soon as the sun sets."

"Or," Caroline replied shortly. "Take down Madame Lalaurie myself."

Baron Saturday chuckled. "You've got spirit 'cher, I'll give you that. Madame Lalaurie's a little busy at the moment to play with you, though. She is…quite literally…about to raise Hell."

XXXX

"Damn it," Rebekah sighed in frustration. "This bloody place is covered top to bottom with voodoo markers!" She was right—the debilitated mansion had strange symbols all over the exterior walls, doors, and windows. They were all a burnt red, appeared to be written in blood.

Klaus grabbed Kylie roughly, shoving her forward. "Best start giving us another option, little witch."

"Cool your damn jets," Kylie snapped. "I don't like the looks of this. There's something not right about this place."

"You said that about the church they kept Niklaus in," Elijah observed. "Cease your worries, Kylie. We will handle whatever comes our way."

Kylie reached forward, touching the doors. She sagged against the splintered wood, her face paling.

"Are you removing the seals?" Klaus demanded. "Is Caroline in there?"

At his words, the doors burst open and Caroline came sprawling out. She heaved a sigh of relief that the sun had set and blinked at the four of them in surprise.

"Caroline!"

She suppressed a smile at Klaus' obvious relief and cleared her throat. "Good. Reinforcements," She took a deep breath. "C'mon guys, we got a witch to take down."

"Just a damn second," Kylie still looked ill, but even more frantic that her one trump card, rescuing Caroline, had been yanked away. "How the hell did you get out of there?"

"Your freakish voodoo spirit dad got me out," Caroline informed her. "There's no time—he told me Madame Lalaurie's doing something with the spirit world, something about raising spirits to absorb their energies—"

"Her freakish voodoo spirit what?!" Rebekah fairly yelped.

"Explain yourself, Kylie," Elijah ordered. "What are you?"

"There's no time for this!" Caroline shouted, grabbing Klaus' arm in a desperate attempt to get the Originals' attention. "We have to move—"

The sky darkened. All five of them looked upwards, desperately searching for the twilight, but darkness fell upon them like a sheet. It was no natural night; not even Klaus' heightened hybrid senses could perceive anything. It was black as pitch almost suffocating—Caroline would have started hyperventilating had she not been clinging to Klaus' arm.

"Elijah!" Klaus shouted, and Caroline felt his hand take hers firmly. "Rebekah! Kylie! Can you hear me?"

Only darkness answered them. Caroline strained to see anything, hear their voices—but she could sense nothing, nothing but Klaus' hand clasping hers.

"What's happening?" Her voice shook as she fought the bubbling panic. "What is this? Why can't we see?"

"She's raising the spirit world," Klaus said in a low voice. "There is no city on earth that is closer to the world of spirits and demons than New Orleans—she wants those spirits to fuel her."

"She shouldn't be able to do this," Caroline said desperately. "What about Bonnie? She's the anchor!"

"If Madame Lalaurie tried to do this anywhere else, Bonnie would be able to stop her," Klaus squeezed her hand in comfort. "But she's chosen her circle well. New Orleans' link to the Spirit World is stronger…"

Someone was appearing in the fog. Caroline squinted and her heart leapt into her throat when she realized the figure was running—running towards them.

Klaus bared his teeth. She crouched slightly, automatically going into a defensive position, ready to strike—though God knew how she would fight a ghost.

But when the figure reached them, Caroline cried out.

"Daddy?!"

Even Klaus looked alarmed. But there was no mistaking Bill Forbes, his face full of fear. The moment he saw his daughter, he broke into a pained smile, unable to contain the joy in seeing her. Caroline attempted to wrench her hand out from his, desperate to throw her arms around her father's neck.

"Don't," Klaus hissed. "It might be a trick!"

Her father stared at them desperately. "You have to run, Caroline," He shouted. "They're coming after you! The witches—the witches you killed!"

Caroline froze. Klaus looked at her with grave calculation.

"I'm not lying!" Bill bellowed. "They're right at my heels! You have to run! They're out for blood."

Klaus pushed her towards him. "Go," He said, his voice husky with snarls. "I'll hold them off."

"Klaus, I'm not going to leave you," Caroline argued.

"Go with your father," He ordered stepping away from her.

Caroline tried to protest further but the fog grew heavier. He was disappearing from her sight.

"Klaus!" Caroline screamed. "Klaus!"

There was no answer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that this was missing a chapter. Oops. I am so sorry for the mistake. Also, ignore "The Originals" canon, it's stupid and boring.

Let us go hence: the night is now at hand;  
The day is overworn, the birds all flown;  
And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown;  
Despair and death; deep darkness o’er the land,  
Broods like an owl; we cannot understand…

The air thickened and Klaus felt the shades’ approach. Twelve witches, bent for revenge on Caroline…he’d met these harpies before. Perhaps this time the message would stick that no one, no one, would harm Caroline while he was alive.

His eyes flashed amber and he felt his fangs lengthen—his body was reacting towards protecting Caroline. The traitorous little witch had been right about one thing—he really had no idea what his werewolf heritage meant, what powers it would unlock. 

The wind shifted and Klaus stiffened. He recognized these scents—and they were not the scents of witches.

“Well, well, well,” He smirked as the shades materialized. “Kimberly. Adrian—and all the rest.” Twelve hybrids encircled him, their eyes filled with hatred. He could feel the air vibrate with rage—how much power did they have in this world of undeath?

“Come to greet your dear old dad?” Klaus sneered. “I have to say, I am touched.”

Adrian bared his teeth. “You’re dead, Klaus.”

“Actually, you’re dead,” Klaus corrected. “Remember? I slaughtered your traitorous hides one very merry Christmas—”

One of the hybrids, a large man named Bruce, outstretched his arm. Without warning, Klaus doubled over, as though someone had launched a cannon ball into his gut. 

“I wouldn’t underestimate us, Klaus,” Kimberly snarled. “You can’t rely on brute strength alone. Not in this place.”

His breathing had become restricted. It felt as though their sliming, betraying hands were grasped around his throat, squeezing the air out of them. He gritted his teeth. 

“You’ve gotten feisty rotting in your graves,” He bit out, the words coming out choked. “But you can’t kill me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Adrian’s fangs began to lengthen as he stepped towards him. “You think your immunities on mortal ground will work in a place of death? Where everything you see and smell wants to drag you down, where your nightmares become real? Your banished to Hell, Klaus. And we’re your tormenters.” 

Adrian attacked. Klaus braced himself to defend himself but to his horror, found himself unable to move. He was paralyzed and immediately, Adrian knocked him to the ground. 

His former hybrid’s fangs tore into his throat and Klaus screamed in agony. He forced himself to roll over, trying to harness both vampire and werewolf instincts—but everything felt out of reach. He was as helpless as a human; this world of death had taken away his strength. 

“Everyone,” Kimberly shouted. “Shift to your wolf forms. We will tear him to pieces.”

“I’ll take the head,” Adrian’s mouth was filled with sinew and blood, red stripes coursing down his chin. 

Gods…if they can take down an Original—what are those witches doing to Caroline? Did her father get her out of there? His thoughts had become hazy. He was about to fall into blackness as he watched the twelve shift to wolves, false moonlight glinting on their fur—but suddenly they stilled.

The sound of a pipe cut through the darkness.

The wolves pawed the ground anxiously. Adrian, still human, but fangs bared, backed off of Klaus’ paralyzed body, turning his head wildly towards the sound. It was a low, melodic, haunting song, something Klaus thought he’d heard before. Perhaps in a dream a thousand lifetimes ago. 

Something was happening. The shadows were shifting, dissipating into something close to sunlight, but not quite. A man stepped forward playing something that looked like a wooden flute. 

The wolves he passed cowered in fear.

Klaus stared in shock. The man had dark skin, the color of mahogany. He wore ancient clothes, something between what a druid would wear and a Native American, along with a wolf pelt slung across his shoulders. His hood was drawn and Klaus could not see his face. 

The man said something to the wolves in a language Klaus vaguely recognized, though he could only understand a few words. The man’s voice was gravelly, like smoke from a dying fire, and Klaus felt something in him loosen. 

The hybrids vanished. Klaus felt whatever was restraining him lift and he leapt to his feet, snarling at the interloper threateningly.

“Who are you?” He demanded. “Why did you interfere?”

“Your death is not theirs,” The man answered. “Not in this ignoble place.”

“Answer my question. Who are you?”

“When I walked on mortal ground, I was called Tav,” The man responded, lowering his hood. His hair was long, the color of coffee, matching intense, eyes. 

The lines on his face alluded to his age, but there was a fiery spark in his gaze. Life. There was an unnatural life in those eyes, something that didn’t fit in this lay of the dead. 

“Tav,” Klaus sneered. “Well. I’m assuming you have a lot of mysterious undead things to do, particularly when the doors of death are open—old families to haunt, mediums to mess with, that sort of thing. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a blonde to save.” He turned away from him, already inhaling the mist, trying to catch Caroline’s scene.

“Your mate?” Tav called after him. “Caroline?”

Klaus stopped short. He turned, eyes narrowing towards the man.

“She will be well,” Tav said simply. “That is why I showed William where to find her.”

Klaus’ brow furrowed. “You sent Bill Forbes to save Caroline?” His fists clenched. “How do you know me?”

Tav ignored the question. “Niklaus,” He murmured. “Niklaus. A name from across the sea. But I gave you a name too, a warrior’s name, in the vain hope and prayer you would not forget the wolf—Karralys.”

Klaus’ chest constricted. He stared at the man with new eyes, suddenly realizing why the twelve hybrids had disappeared. 

“You’re the first,” His voice was dry. “The first werewolf. The one my mother fell in love with.” He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t find what this implied as a swirl of emotions tumbled over him—rage, hatred, sorrow, pain…

“And you,” Tav replied. “Are my firstborn son.”

XXXX

“Daddy,” Caroline panted. “Daddy, we have to stop!”

He didn’t answer her, but his hand squeezed hers gently. Desperately, Caroline glanced behind her.

“Daddy please,” She begged. “I can’t just—I can’t just leave—”

“Klaus can take care of himself,” Bill replied shortly. “The Original vampire? The source of the scourge, who’s remained alive for a thousand years despite every hunter, born and trained? He’ll manage. I'm taking you some place safe.”

“But this place—it’s—there’s something wrong with this place!” She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something like instinct told her that Klaus was in terrible danger.

“Caroline!” Her father whirled towards her, his hands gripping her shoulders. “You are in the land of the dead, the one place on earth your powers are ineffective. You’re on their turf, they sense your light and life and they will do everything in their power to snuff it out, do you hear me? If they find you, they will take you, and you will never return home again!”

She stared at him, her eyes filling. It had been years since she’d heard his voice, so long since she felt his touch. In this world of unrealities, where her loved ones walked—he was here. 

“Where—where can we go?” She whispered. 

“Come on,” Bill said firmly. “There’s a place they can’t go.”

XXXX

There was no pride in Tav’s features. No fatherly warmth, no love or affection. This, at least, was a comfort to Klaus—anything else would’ve felt false. 

“So,” He said immediately, crossing his arms. “Dear old dad. I can’t say it’s nice to meet you, given the circumstances, but considering what an ass Mikael was, a very low bar has been set for you.”

“I don’t need a bar set for me, Karralys,” Tav said quietly. “A hundred years ago, had you come through the doors of death, I would have let the souls you’ve tormented rip you to shreds. I have seen very little of the wolf in you, very little love and loyalty to your pack. I had thought Esther’s curse made you one of those blood beasts and your soul was the price.” His words lacked the anger Mikael’s had had so often; they were cool and matter-of-fact. 

Klaus found that the only thing he could think to say was: “Don’t call me that.”

Tav ignored him pointedly. “I had thought you were a punishment from the gods for my indiscretion with Esther, for not respecting that she was bound to another. I thought my suffering, my penance, would be to watch the beasts of blood run rampant across the centuries, killing and feasting on the humans, while I could do nothing to protect them.”

Tav’s eyes met his. “But something has changed within you. Your presence in the Crescent City, your reliance on your brother and sister, your desire to be king of the people of this city—I see the shadow of the wolf, however faint.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Klaus said coldly. “My domination of New Orleans isn’t out of some sentimental—”

“And the girl,” Tav said suddenly. “Caroline. She has seen what I have seen.” 

Klaus froze. Her words rang through his mind. Anyone who is capable of love is capable of being saved…

“She has seen the wolf too,” Tav said softly. “And she sees it now. It is why she has come here. It is why the wolf claimed her as his mate.”

His hand went to his pouch and he withdrew a small dagger. It appeared to be made of onyx and Klaus eyed him warily. 

“Are you worth saving?” Tav rumbled. “Are you more than the beast you’ve been for a thousand years? If you allow the wolf to rule you, will it atone for your darkness?” He raised his hand and Klaus fell to his knees. Something within him was burning, as if his internal organs had been exposed to daylight.

“You have murdered, betrayed, stolen, tortured, and damned,” Tav’s voice thundered in his ears. “Still yet you live, still yet your brother and sister protect you, still yet the girl who walks in sunlight strives to save you. Are you deserving of this redemption?”

“I will not answer to you,” Klaus growled, clutching his head. It felt as though a white-hot carving knife was searing through his brain. 

Tav’s voice roared. “And the thousands of humans you murdered, the men, the women, the children? Were they deserving of the deaths you gave them? The pain you inflicted?”

“Get out of my head!”

“Your mother the witch, she thought your evil could never be atoned for, so she damned her own children! Again, I ask you—are you deserving of redemption?”

Klaus screamed in agony. Thousands upon thousands of faces were flashing through his head, men, women, children, the countless mortals he’d carelessly slaughtered. He felt their agonizing deaths, he felt their hunger as they became newborn vampires, he felt them shrivel to dust when they could not survive the turning. He felt the rage and sorrow of the werewolves, being forcibly turned into something outside their natures, their hybrid forms condemning them to slavery. 

“Enough,” He rasped. “Enough!”

“It was not enough for them, it is not enough for you,” Tav’s voice was deadly calm.

“You’re killing me!”

“Would that I were. But empathy is not a death, it is a rebirth. I want to see if your soul still lingers…” Tav’s eyes glittered in something akin to malevolence. 

The voices in Klaus’ mind screamed out their pain, echoing across thousands of years. What was Tav looking for? There was nothing left but ashes, nothing but the darkness…

“No…”

Tav’s hand rose and for a blessed moment, the voices halted. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Klaus strained for breath, sweat pouring down his face. “No…I do not deserve redemption…not for what I’ve done…not for what I will do…there is nothing…” 

There was a kind of stillness as he spoke, the words making his throat raw. The agony had been so intense, he’d wished for the sweet release of death—but he was in death, death would mean an eternity of suffering those pains, over and over…those horrible voices, that horrible screaming from the innocent lives he’d slaughtered for food and pleasure…

Tav bent down towards him. Klaus met his gaze. 

“Good,” Tav said softly. “No one is deserving of redemption. Redemption is a gift, one you accept or reject. There is still hope for you, Karralys.”

“Go to Hell,” Klaus spat. 

“Perhaps later. For now, you must go to your mate. The doors will be closing soon; Lalaurie has all she needs.”

XXXX

“Stay with me, Caroline.”

She felt strange, as though parts of her were fading into the shadows. The further they walked into the Underworld, the more lifeless she became. 

“What’s—what’s happening?” Her voice sounded outside of herself, as if she was listening to a bad recording. “What’s happening to me?”

Her father gripped her hand tightly. “You’re succumbing. Remember, Caroline, you are alive. Don’t give into the shadows, sweetheart. We’re almost there!” 

Her eyelids felt heavy and she longed to curl up on the ground and vanish. She rather thought it would feel like a nap. 

“Caroline!” Her father’s gaze was frantic. “I promise you, baby, we’re almost there! Stay with me!” 

She focused on the sensation of her father’s hand clutching hers. His hand had always been soft, always gentle, as he put curlers in her hair or combed through it. She focused on those memories and sensations and gradually felt more solid. 

“That’s right, sweetie,” Her father’s voice was relieved. “And here we are!” 

Caroline looked up. They were standing before a house, a house that looked precisely like Elena Gilbert’s. Her eyes widened.

The front door opened and Alaric Saltzman stepped outside. “Caroline,” He smiled at her. “It’s good to see you.”

She tried to answer but collapsed on the ground.


End file.
